


dress it up (with the trappings of love)

by Alphinia



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: F/M, JJ works at the Wreck, Jiara - Freeform, Rafe is kind of a creep, a cinderella story au, a nice side of jarah, angst and pining that got way too long, anonymous texting buddies, happy ending because duh, popular kie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27456724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphinia/pseuds/Alphinia
Summary: “You don’t know who I am, do you?”Kiara’s mouth snapped shut, and she looked at him. Really looked at him. At the fluff of his hair that looked straight out of Hollywood. His long eyelashes, still as he watched her.She didn’t recognize him, but she realized maybe she was supposed to.“That’s what I thought.” He scoffed a little, shaking his head, but at least he wasn’t walking away.________________________OR Kiara is in the popular crowd. JJ is a poor kid from the wrong side of town, but an anonymous texting relationship makes them realize there is more to people than meets the eye. A Cinderella Story AU.
Relationships: JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 135





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Blame the anon on tumblr for this monstrosity.  
> Thanks to the jiara jubilee for helping me come up with the crackhead usernames.
> 
> Let's all just pretend it's possible not to recognize someone in a mask, mkay? This takes place... wherever you want it to. Probably a bigger high school than in the obx.

JJ wasn’t sure when ‘once upon a time’ stopped existing for him.

Maybe it was the night he’d realized he was eating shitty Scooby Snacks for dinner when other kids had actual meals, and that wasn’t normal.

Or perhaps it was that day outside his first grade classroom, with his knees bouncing together as he waited for a mother that would never come to the parent pick up line. She was just running late, he’d told himself. Sometimes she forgot to get out of bed, so that must be it.

Definitely by the time he was cowering in his closet, throat throbbing from where his father had wrapped his hands around his neck like vices. He’d seen stars that day, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the tears or the near blackout. It was far from the last time.

More than likely, it never existed at all. For Maybanks, it was all always and never.

* * *

 **Keytohappiness [7:56 am]** _Morning!_

 **Gearhead420 [8:02 am _]_** _gross_

 **Gearhead420 [8:02 am]** _: who are u_

 **Keytohappiness [8:03 am]:** _well, then. I hope you have a shit morning_

 **Gearhead420 [8:05 am]:** _I will. It’s a school day, thx_

 **Gearhead420 [8:05 am]** : _learning and shit. Having to bring a pencil_

 **Keytohappiness [8:06 am]** _: you are not wrong_

* * *

“Hey, kid!” a gruff voice bellowed, and JJ’s head shot up from the cracked screen of his iPhone 5, shoulders automatically tensing into a defensive position.

It was a reflex he’d developed over the years to dodge the sharp glass of flung beer bottles and the swings of drunken, sloppy fists. Ernie hadn’t hit him yet, but he still looked threatening while he enunciated in the doorway of the dish room with little flicks of his spatula.

“Is the boss paying you to send little messages to your friends? I don’t think so. We have tables waiting, Maybank.”

Three fucking tables. JJ knew, because the breakfast rush from the school crowd had already cleared, and if the people left were too much for the other waitress to handle, she might need to look into a new career.

JJ yanked his apron off. “Shift’s over.”

He ignored Ernie’s wales of protest as he trotted out the door. Mike Carrera was the man signing his paycheck, not Ernie, and if he missed many more classes this semester, he’d be an automatic flunk out. He’d only picked up shifts at the Wreck for the past month, but he’d already skipped school at least once a week to work enough to cover the bills his father certainly wouldn’t pay. He could do without warm water, but an eviction notice and a broken nose resulting from it wasn’t on his desired list.

He was already ten minutes late to Economics as it was. JJ couldn’t fathom what he’d need to know the ins and outs of different trade systems for, but if a high school degree earned him a ticket out of his shitty excuse for a house, then he was damn well getting one.

As he drove his beat up old bike towards the school, sans helmet and twenty over the speed limit, JJ’s mind drifted back to _keytohappiness_. The mysterious girl he’d been messaging, whatever the hell her actual name was.

It started as some stupid app the school techies created to promote unity and growing friendship circles or some other bullshit. He’d joined because his homeroom required it, she’d commented on a picture of a rusted boat motor he was fixing up for some kook, telling him he was doing a shitty job, and he hadn’t had time to blink before they were exchanging messages every day, multiple times a day.

John B told him it was cute that he had a pen pal, to which JJ promptly warned him to fuck off. Pope had corrected both of them, just to make sure they knew it wasn’t technically the same thing as a pen pal, but he was equally interested in JJ’s interest in this girl.

It was out of character for him. JJ didn’t spend time talking to girls when he could do other things with them. In fact, he didn’t spend time with much of anyone long term except for John B and Pope.

But this girl was easy to talk to. He’d told her things that he’d never told anyone, not even John B; how he felt like he was never going to get out of this town, how little he actually liked most of their high school population. She strongly concurred.

It felt fucking stupid to admit, even to himself, but he _liked_ that she didn’t know who he was, that she had no expectations that came with his or his family’s reputation.

He didn’t know what he expected out of her, either. The image of a loner girl, hunched over her ukulele to perfect the tune of the latest song she was writing shot through his mind, but he cast it aside.

He was never going to actually meet her, so what did it matter? This wasn’t going to be a thing.

It was twenty minutes after the bell, and JJ was slowing down to pull into the last bike spot up front when a squeal of tires screeched through the air and a sleek 2021 model slid in front of him. He slammed a foot on the breaks, cursing.

“What the hell, man?”

The opposing bike’s owner’s feet hit the asphalt. The helmet came off, and he shook out his head of over gelled hair. Rafe Cameron. His rich developer father had purchased him the bike a few weeks ago, and he’d been busy flaunting it around so absolutely anyone who would look at it couldn’t miss it.

His light eyes flitted to JJ, a smirk of mock innocence teasing his lips. “Oh, didn’t see you there.”

JJ’s fists clenched at his sides, hard enough that he dimly realized his nails were digging into his palms. Rafe, however, had already reverted back to pretending JJ was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe. His favorite pastime.

“Top, there you are!” Rafe called across the parking lot, ignoring JJ as he was forced to pull his bike off to a create-your-own spot off in the grass. He didn’t have time for starting shit this morning, not when he was already at risk for a detention. He imagined Rafe’s eyes, still red rimmed from whatever line of drugs he’d undoubtedly done over the weekend, decked out with a shiner, and his fingers twitched at the thought.

If Rafe was JJ’s second least favorite person on the planet (The top spot was secured by non other than Luke Maybank in a drunken rage), several other ranking members in the top ten sauntered over. JJ could make them out even from his place at the back of the parking lot; Topper, Kelce, and the whole gang. All were popular kids with enough of daddy’s money that the teachers would never even bat an eye that they were running late.

JJ was very much unlikely to receive the same treatment.

Topper had Sarah Cameron on his arm, and he looked like someone had just made him Prince of Fucking Persia, which he may as well have been. When Sarah Cameron walked into a room, with her luscious caramel locks and three hundred dollar outfit, people noticed. She was a walking cliché, the total queen bee of high school, except she pretended to be nice. JJ had no doubt it was an act, given that she shared a gene pool with Rafe, who had no shame publically flaunting how much a jackass he was.

A second girl had clamored out of Topper’s jeep. Sarah Cameron’s best friend was darker and quieter, the girl that stood in her shadow while people congregated around her like moths to a flame.

JJ’s eyes were drawn to her, against his will. Personally, he had always thought she was the hotter one. With her long, shapely legs and the toned midriff visible under her crop top, she was a ten out of ten for sure. Hell, she was an eleven.

But an eleven did not save her from being a stuck up bitch, just like the rest of them. Her mocha gaze brushed over JJ from where she trailed behind Sarah, like he was a smudge of gum on the sidewalk that wasn’t even large enough to catch her attention. He doubted Kiara Carrera even knew he was her father’s employee.

JJ walked behind them at a careful distance. On another day, he might’ve welcomed the fight they would undoubtedly pick, but his back was aching from his late shift at the garage last night and he was already in a pissy mood at the thought of the detention he was no doubt about to receive.

He made out Rafe lingering towards the back of their group, his hand brushing Kiara’s elbow, and his stomach coiled in something that felt a lot like disgust.

Shitty people deserved each other, he reckoned.

* * *

 **Gearhead420 [3:08 pm]** _: Im thinkin we should slip a blunt into Mrs. Culliver’s bag_

 **Gearhead420 [3:09 pm]** _: it might help with the stick up her ass_

**Keytohappiness [3:12 pm]** _: Aw. If you look at pictures of her cats she will definitely let you out of detention early_

**Gearhead420 [3:17 pm]:** _plz kill me_

* * *

“What are you smiling at?”

“Oh.” Kiara shoved her phone back in her bag. “Nothing. Just a stupid tiktok.”

Sarah’s eyebrows flew up. She was bent over, both hands reaching around her right foot in a warm up stretch, but Kiara could have seen her look from Mars. “You’re texting a guy,” she accused. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know. I mean, nobody.”

Kiara wasn’t sure why she was keeping her anonymous chat buddy a secret. It was harmless, and it wasn’t like Sarah didn’t talk to her about boys all the time. She knew everything about Sarah’s first date with Topper two weeks ago; what they’d talked about, how long it had taken him to grab her hand, how their first kiss was fine but maybe a little wet for Sarah’s taste.

It just felt almost stupid, in a sense, to admit she didn’t have a clue who the guy she was crushing on was. Because if the way her stomach rolled every time the app chimed was any indication, she was well on her way to a big fat crush.

Talking to people, really talking to them, had never come easy to Kiara. She was popular, but only because Sarah was popular and her family had money (Hard earned, from their restaurant). It was…. nice to be able to text someone after a long day without having to think for a second about what she was sending him. It wasn’t even like that for her and Sarah all the time, which was a rather sad fact Kiara preferred not to dwell on.

Sarah pulled herself back upright, her practice skirt swishing. “Is Mr. Nobody taking you to the Halloween dance?”

“Doubt it.” Kiara halfheartedly stretched out her arms, each in turn, considering the concept.

She and her anonymous texting buddy, at the Halloween dance. She couldn’t deny she’d thought about meeting him, but it was a topic she wasn’t quite sure how to broach. He seemed… not shy, but at the very least, private. It might be awkward if she tried to move things forward and he didn’t want to.

Kiara couldn’t deny the idea was kind of appealing. He made her laugh, and she already felt like she could talk to him about anything. But there was also the potential of being let down by the real thing…

“It’s not Rafe, is it?” Sarah’s voice was a little nervous, like she couldn’t decide how she felt about the idea.

“Uh, _no_ ,” Kiara said, trying to remember that even though Sarah was her closest friend, Rafe was also her brother. She refrained from saying anything else, but she hadn’t missed the way Rafe had lurked around them lately, how his sleezy gaze followed her more often than usual when she was hanging out at the Cameron family pool. She didn’t think he’d actually do anything, but it left her feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He was really popular on top of being Sarah’s family, so she didn’t want to deal with having to turn him down if he were to make move.

Another check in the pro list of meeting her mystery online guy, then. _Keep Rafe Cameron away_.

“Oh, okay. I was just making sure—“

“Hey, bitches. You two coming or what?” Sarah was interrupted by Scarlet poking her head into the women’s locker room. Like Sarah, she looked like she was born to wear her clover colored cheerleader uniform.

Kiara, on the other hand, was very much not meant to be a cheerleader.

Maybe she had the legs for the skirt (Not many hesitated in telling her so), but she definitely didn’t have the attitude. Kiara didn’t consider herself to be sulky or a downer, but pasting on a smile for dance routine after dance routine made her cheeks ache. More often than not, her coach had to tell her at least twice per game, _Smile, Kiara._

It was something Sarah had talked her into, when they had gotten really close freshmen year. She’d done it, reluctantly, and it wasn’t that she hated it, per say, but she definitely never would’ve done it without Sarah there begging her. Sometimes she wasn’t even sure if the other girls on the squad actually liked her.

She was somehow simultaneously in the popular crowd and totally an outsider at the same time. Not all it was cracked up to be.

* * *

 **Keytohappiness [8:03 pm]** _: you ever have one of those days where you think no one in the world sees the real you? Like you’re lonely in a room full of people?_

 **Keytohappiness [8:06 pm]:** _that sounds stupid. It’s just that I have this anxiety about what other people think, like they’re going to hate me, which is ridiculous, because societal norms shouldn’t be something I’m caught up in, but here we are._

 **Keytohappiness [8:07 pm]** _: I’m totally rambling. Sorry._

 **Gearhead420 [8:21 pm]:** _woah. Getting to the real shit, aren’t we?_

 **Keytohappiness [8:22 pm]** _: sorry. Didn’t mean to start spewing sappy shit today._

 **Gearhead420 [8:36 pm]:** _it’s all good._

 **Gearhead420 [8:36 pm]:** _fuck what other people think. I already like u better than half the school._

 **Keytohappiness [8:38 pm]:** _Wow. My life might be complete now that I have your seal of approval._

 **Gearhead420 [8:40 pm]** _: It totally should be_

* * *

Work. School. Getting snubbed by rich kids. Work. Sleep if he was lucky, get his ass beat if he wasn’t.

Today, JJ had the particularly unfortunate combination of having to go to work after getting his ass beat the night before, which meant he had to either hide his wincing from his coworkers, play hungover so he could lean into the pain a little bit, or make up some imaginary scuffle he had gotten into.

 _“You sorry piece of shit. Your teacher called, said you had another detention—you know what happens when those people come sniffing around, don’t you?”_ Luke Maybank had screamed when JJ had come home, tired from a long shift at the garage. Now, he had a black eye for his shift at the Wreck.

“You should see the other guy,” JJ chirped, when he’d met John B around the corner of the counter. The best days at the Wreck were those when his shifts lined up with his best friends’.

John B had believed him, like always, because apparently JJ was wild and volatile enough that no one ever doubted him getting into a fistfight. He pushed aside the hollow feeling of disappointment in his throat and pulled out his best tip-winning smile.

And promptly froze in his tracks. Kiara Carrera was sat on a bar stool, hands propping her chin up and a soft smile on her face, chatting with her dad. Pope had been sitting nearby earlier, just hanging out because he had nothing better to do, but apparently he’d scampered off at the first sign of a popular kid.

JJ scooted back into the dish room and kicked at John B’s ankles. “Bro, you got a customer at the bar.”

John B glared at him. “Who?”

“Carrera.”

“Mike?”

“No, Kiara.”

“Shit,’ John B said. “Is she alone?”

His best friend strained around the edge of the dish room, messy chocolate curls popping out from under his cap. If JJ asked, he knew John B would say he didn’t feel like dealing with Topper or Rafe’s shit, but in reality he was probably mostly hoping Sarah Cameron was sniffing around with Kiara. He liked to ogle her and then play dumb.

“She probably won’t order anything. She’s just talking to her dad, and he’ll get it if she does,” John B reasoned.

JJ’s fingers tapped against his sides. “Rock paper scissors you if one of us has to do it.”

The first round, JJ threw down a pair of scissors, and John B a rock. JJ cursed. “No, it has to be best two out of three,” he argued. He chose scissors two more times, grinning wickedly when John B panicked and reverted to paper. “Maybe one day I’ll show you the highs and lows of rock paper scissors technique, but—“

JJ’s phone dinged, and he trailed off habitually to check it. There was an embarrassing swell of minor disappointment when he saw it was just a text from Pope. _Keytohappiness_ hadn’t texted him since the night before, and although he hated to admit it, he kind of missed talking to her already.

Pussy shit, right there.

“Is that your pen pal?” John B’s greedy fingers reached for his phone, and JJ snatched it back, scowling.

“No, it’s Pope."

“Oh my God.” John B feigned surprise. “JJ, are you _blushing_? I think he’s blushing.”

“Fuck off.” He really wasn’t, but he might be if John B didn’t shut his trap.

Unfortunately, Mike caught sight of JJ. The Wreck was slow tonight apart from an older couple sitting in the corner, and Kiara, of course. “Hey, JJ! Mind getting Kiara a milkshake while I finish up this shrimp?”

Fuck. Yes, he did mind.

Kiara blinked over her father’s shoulder at him, face glazed over like her mind was somewhere else. She was sitting on the counter now, in too-tiny little athletic shorts that left her long, long legs on full display from where she had them crossed. She’d probably just come from cheer practice.

JJ lifted his hat off his head, then jerked it back on, pushing it further down than before. “Yeah, sure,” he grunted, because Mike was his boss and it wasn’t like he could say, _No, I’ll pass, thanks_.

Mike returned to the kitchen, leaving JJ and Kiara in awkward silence. JJ could practically feel John B struggling to contain his sniggers from the dish room.

“Well, what do you want?” JJ asked, and it came out a bit snippier than how he probably should’ve been talking to his boss’s daughter.

Kiara dipped her chin at him, unimpressed, and he felt her gaze hover over his black eye. _Yes, Princess, that’s a shiner. This is the real world,_ he wanted to say. He didn’t.

“Mint chip,” she said, flatly.

“Sure,” JJ muttered. He reached a hand into the cabinet where they normally kept the milkshake cups, felt around inside, and came up empty. He banged the top of his skull on the way out, wincing. “Uh, just a second—“

“I got it.” Kiara smoothly hopped over the counter, ducked her head under it, and somehow materialized a spare cup out of thin fucking air. She hardly spared JJ a glance as she made her way to the drink mixer and completely made herself at home spinning a mint chip shake. Totally showing him up.

Apparently, Mike wasn’t lying when he said Kiara normally took shifts at the Wreck as well, but was currently on a break due to cheer season, or some shit. Thank God. JJ didn’t know if he could handle her bouncing around every day like she owned the place, which… he guessed she sort of did.

Kiara topped her milkshake with whip cream, no cherry. “Bye, Dad! Love you,” she called, raising her voice so Mike could hear her from the kitchen.

And then she was gone, just as quickly as she’d come. JJ doubted she had even looked at him long enough to remember his face if someone offered to pay her to pick him out of a crowd. He scowled.

“Wow man. That was just something else.” John B appeared at his side, his freckled face red from laughing. JJ jabbed an elbow into his ribs.

“You fucking cheater! It was supposed to be you.”

* * *

 **Keytohappiness [10:21 pm]:** _So, we know way too many things about each other for me to be calling you gearhead for the rest of my life._

 **Gearhead420 [11:10 pm]:** _gearhead420, thx_

 **Keytohappiness [11:13 pm]:** _I’m serious. Would it really be so weird if we met up some time?_

 **Gearhead420 [11:14 pm]** _: Maybe. For all I know ur a creepy 60 year old man._

**Gearhead420 [11:15 pm}:** _I don’t want to be on some murder mystery shit_

**Keytohappiness [11:16 pm]:** _Really, me? If either of us is a 60 year old man it’s definitely you._

 **Gearhead420 [11: 20 pm]:** _I don’t know. Ur the instigator in this situation_

 **Gearhead420 [11:20 pm]** _: but I might be down if ur rich_

 **Keytohappiness [11:22 pm]:** _totally not funny_

 **Gearhead420 [11:25 pm]:** _u know u laughed_

 **Keytohappiness [11:27 pm]** _: …maybe a little_

 **Gearhead420 [11:40 pm]:** _we can think about it_

**Keytohappiness [11: 42 pm]:** _Me being a 60 year old man?_

**Gearhead420 [11: 58 m]:** _meeting up._

* * *

“And then he wanted to hang out Sunday too. Isn’t that a little much?”

“Kind of,” Kiara said, watching as Sarah fretted through her salad across the table. Sarah’s eyes drifted to where Topper was caught up with Rafe and Kelce across the lunch room, then back to her salad when she was satisfied that he wasn’t in overhearing range. “He kind of gives clingy vibes.”

“Oh, great. That’s what I was thinking.” Sarah’s hands landed palm down on the table. For all the distress written on her face, one would’ve thought the end of the world must be coming. For her, it might as well have been.

Kiara pursed her lips. “Maybe you should break up with him.”

She loved Sarah with her whole heart, but this dramatic routine she went through with guys was like a dryer cycle on repeat. She knew all the signs, and it could get a little old sometimes. Sarah would date someone for a month, enjoy the rush of the new relationship, and then suddenly find something to freak out over as soon as things left the honeymoon phase. Meaning: she didn’t cope well when guys got too serious about her.

As far as Kiara was concerned, she hated the drama of high school relationships. Yet another reason her preoccupation with whether of not her random texting buddy liked her or not was so unfortunate. She knew he _liked_ her, but did he like her in a way that would get Sarah waggling her eyebrows? Surely, if he did he would want to meet up.

She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, exactly. A relationship? _Maybe if he’s as good as he seems,_ she realized, which should have her feeling a lot more freaked out than she was.

Kiara didn’t really do the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing. She dated guys for two weeks, max, before getting bored and becoming preoccupied with helping Sarah though her flirtations. And she especially didn’t get butterflies in her stomach from some guy online who she’d never even met.

She wasn’t extremely shallow about looks, but what if he was like, secretly some major creep? She’d never live it down.

All of her doubts didn’t stop her from flicking back to their conversation thread, like the power of her gaze would telepathically convince him to say yes.

“Maybe,” Sarah said, voice dull. She propped her chin on a fist. “But the Halloween dance is in two weeks. We’re dates.”

“Well, you could probably find a new one,” Kiara suggested. There was hardly a single guy in the school who would turn Sarah down. Against her will, she wondered if her mystery guy would prefer Sarah to her, or if he’d ever had a secret crush on her.

She was pleasantly surprised when she came to the conclusion that no, Sarah actually didn’t seem like his type.

“I’ll see how the dance goes,” Sarah decided, as Kiara knew she would. She let out a little, exasperated breath of air, but Sarah wasn’t done. “And seriously, Kiara. We’ve got to find you a costume.”

“I know. We will, don’t worry,” Kiara said, because she did want to look cute for the dance. She did. But she’d had other things on her mind; the unopened college pamphlets left pointedly in her bedroom, the way her mother referred to her university days with a _when_ and not an _if_.

Like how in the hell she was supposed to tell them that maybe she didn’t even want to step foot in a college, ever. Why would she, when she could take her savings from the Wreck and use it to hop on a plane and travel the world? She didn’t care where she ended up. An orphanage in India, an elephant reserve in Thailand. College would never compare to making a difference in the world.

And maybe she could even use that life experience to finally push her to complete her album. She doubted she’d ever really make a career out of her music, but if she did, she could keep enough to live off of and donate the rest to charity.

But instead her parents wanted her in business school, because that was _totally_ her thing.

* * *

 **Keytohappiness [1:31 pm]:** _I hate social expectations_

 **Gearhead420 [1:32 pm]** _: uh oh_

 **Keytohappiness [2:02 pm]:** _My parents still keep “accidentally” leaving college booklets in my room, and my friends are forcing me to go to… the Halloween dance_

**Gearhead420 [2:03 pm]:** _lmao I’ll be having cheap booze on my couch_

 **Keytohappiness [2:22 pm]** _: not fair. If you were a good friend you’d come with_

* * *

JJ inhaled deeply, allowing the smoke to build in his lungs for several therapeutic seconds before blowing it out into the afternoon air. It was so rare he got time off during the school year to hang out with his friends like a normal teenager. “Theoretically, if some really hot chick asked you to a lame school dance, would you go?”

He was laid out in the hammock at John B’s house, the two of them facing each other. Pope was sprawled out on the ground beneath them, occasionally making snide comments about the stench of their weed. His knee brushed John B’s, and he chose not to dwell on the fact that the warmth of his friend’s skin against his soothed him more than the blunt did. It was nice; the casual feel of another human being who didn’t hate him.

Fuck. Getting high was supposed to relax him, not make him dwell on the gloom of his entire existence. His life sucked. Oh well.

John B raised his head. “No, JJ, I won’t go to the Halloween dance with you.”

“I’m being for real. If she’s, like, the hottest chick around.” Except for all he knew, his mystery girl could be atrocious.

“Is this about your texting girl?” Pope droned. “Because I know for a fact you have no idea what she looks like. None.”

JJ fell back against the hammock, and John B took the opportunity to snatch the blunt from him. They were sharing, because John B didn’t have as high a tolerance as JJ, and they both had to go to school in the morning.

“No.” JJ paused, then added, “She wants to meet up.”

“I want to know who she is. I say do it,” John B said.

Pope shifted so he was sitting upright, his hands braced behind him to prop himself up. He looked JJ right in the eye. “Technically, if you do the Halloween dance and it’s horrible, you can avoid her for the rest of your life after.”

JJ considered it for several seconds longer than he’d like to admit. Say he met this girl at the dance, and they miraculously hit it off as well as they did over text. What then? Worst-case scenario, she’d head for the hills as soon as she realized his family name. Best-case scenario, she actually liked him, and then his work schedule or his father ruined it for him and she dumped his sorry ass.

He was the type of guy girls lied to their friends about sleeping with, not the kind they brought home to meet Mom and Dad.

JJ ran a hand through his hair, and it stuck up, greasy from where he’d been working under cars an hour ago. “What should my costume be? Broke waiter? There’s no point, guys.”

“I think you’re just scared of romance,” John B announced, like he’d made some grand discovering regarding the secrets of the universe. He looked fucking ridiculous.

JJ snatched the blunt from between his fingers and took another drag. “I think you’ve watched too many Lifetime movies, bro.”

Pope held up a finger. “I think you mean Hallmark.”

“Same difference,” JJ argued.

“No, not really,” Pope said. He paused. “JB and I will go with you if you really want to go.”

John B made a face, but then reluctantly nodded along. “Yeah, we can, but you owe us.”

If he could find a costume… Technically, he didn’t have to talk to this girl again. He could have one night to himself. Mike would probably let him switch a shift with someone if he asked now, and he could spend the night hanging out with a potentially cool girl he actually enjoyed talking to, just the same as Rafe Cameron or Topper Thornton was planning to do. The idea had its merits.

“Whatever. I’ll think about it.”

* * *

**Gearhead420 [4:38 pm]** _: are u serious about meeting up?_

**Keytohappiness [4:45 pm]** _: like ever, or at the dance?_

 **Gearhead420 [4:47 pm]** _: both_

**Gearhead420 [4:47 pm]:** _the dance_

**Keytohappiness [4:52 pm]:** _I think that would be cool, yeah. Really we don’t even have to see each other in our costumes, right?_

**Gearhead420 [5:01 pm]:** _11, middle of the dance floor?_

**Keytohappiness [5:04 pm]:** _it’s a date :)_

**Gearhead420 [5:07 pm]** _janitors closet if ur hot_

_Keytohappiness laughed at ’janitors closet if ur hot’_

* * *

Kiara hated when their “friends” piled into the Wreck with she and Sarah on the weekends. Partly because she could only take most of them in small doses, and partly because her dad hated giving them free food. It was always an argument between him and her mom. They couldn’t really afford it, but Anna was determined to uphold a good image with families like the Camerons, and if they couldn’t feed their daughter’s friends what was the point?

Kiara appreciated the gesture for Sarah, but truthfully she wouldn’t much mind if the rest of them never stepped foot in the Wreck again.

Still, despite the fact that they were all there waiting for their order and despite the fact that Rafe had maneuvered himself into the booth next to her, it was difficult to completely sour her good mood. The Halloween dance was a week away, and Mystery Guy had agreed! They were finally going to meet.

Rafe still proved to be a nuisance, even as chatter about the odds in the upcoming football game led the discussion. His hand kept brushing her thigh. When it wasn’t his hand, it was his foot sliding against hers, and Kiara’s stomach rolled. She not so discretely shifted away, but he never did seem to get the hint.

One of her dad’s new waiters ambled over, balancing an impressive amount of plates. The teenagers never seemed to last more than a few months, max, and when Kiara was taking a break from work during cheer season, she found she couldn’t keep up with them at all.

This one looked only vaguely familiar. Messy blond hair tucked into a red cap that cast shadows over his face, though she could still read that his expression was sullen. He looked about her age, and she felt like maybe she’d seen him around school or the restaurant in passing at some point.

His smile was sarcastic when he said, “Order’s up.”

He sat Kiara’s order in front of her first; a simple shrimp basket. Rafe’s burger was last, and the waiter didn’t seem sorry about it.

“Hey, uh, waiter,” Rafe said, and Kiara’s hands froze over her fries. The waiter stopped, posture stiff, like he already knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming. “What kind of bread is this, huh? I’d really like to know.”

“White,” came the dry response, and Kiara bit back her snort.

The blond watched Rafe for another moment. He was stiffening next to Kiara, but he’d yet to say anything else. Just when a long enough silence had spanned that the waiter turned to leave, Rafe said, “What about some extra napkins?”

The waiter paused, jaw clenched as he fished around in his apron pockets. A wad of napkins fell in front of Rafe, and Rafe narrowed his eyes down at them, like he was counting them. Kiara sensed him gearing up for one of those long games of cat and mouse he enjoyed with less popular kids, which was by far her least favorite quality of his (And she had many). But just as Rafe opened his mouth again, the waiter said, “Alright, well I got real customers over there.”

He jutted his thumb back towards a family of three nearby, and he was gone before Rafe could get another word in. Kiara hid her smirk by taking a sip of her water.

“What a piece of shit. He can kiss his tip goodbye.”

Topper nodded. “Right, Man? I was just sitting here like, ‘Wow, does this guy not know his job description?’ Wild.”

“Y’all aren’t real customers,” Kiara couldn’t help but point out.

“It does kind of surprise me that your dad hired him,” Sarah admitted.

“Him? Why?” Kiara was apparently out of the loop. As far as she was concerned, the boy had done a perfectly fine job waiting on them, regardless of Rafe’s opinion on the matter. If anything, good for him. Rafe was getting a free meal she didn’t really want to give him. He didn’t get a monopoly to pick on her dad’s employees, too.

“That’s JJ Maybank,” Sarah said, like that was supposed to explain everything. The name sounded like she’d probably heard it at some point before, but Kiara was totally blanking. Noticing the expression on her face, Sarah rolled her eyes. “He’s from a rough family. He’s been suspended like, a million times. For fighting, probably for drugs too.”

“You should really tell your dad. Don’t want that kind of reputation hanging around.” Kiara couldn’t help but think Topper said the word _reputation_ a lot like he really meant _trash_.

She raised her brows and tossed them a shrug. It really wasn’t her business, and as long as she didn’t catch the guy swiping money from the cash register, she wasn’t about to try to lose someone his job just because. People like Topper and the Camerons might not understand, but contrary to popular belief, Kiara knew what it was like to hear her parents talking late at night in the kitchen about money, their voices hushed.

Gradually, the conversation shifted away from whether or not Mike Carrera should fire his new waiter to the Halloween dance. Topper wanted to take Sarah out to a fancy restaurant before. Kelce wanted to just wear his football uniform.

Kiara had to fight a smile at the thought of finally meeting her mystery guy. There were nerves, but the closer it got, she found her excitement more palpable. What if this worked out, and she could finally talk to someone who really got her? Just Kiara. Not Sarah Cameron’s best friend.

The concept both thrilled and terrified her.

“I was thinking we should go matching, but nothing too tacky or cheap,” Rafe was saying, and what the fuck? He was looking at her, his light eyes unblinking. Was this his way of officially asking her to the Halloween dance?

“Rafe,” she said, and her voice was small in a way Kiara hated. She didn’t do _meek_.

Rafe ignored her, and the chatter around the table continued obliviously. Sarah shot her a look that told her that her best friend, at least, was more aware of what going on. She hoped she wouldn’t hate her for what came next.

She didn’t know what she would do if Sarah hated her.

“Vampires are sexy, don’t you think?” Rafe continued, leaning in so she was clouded in the overpowering stench of his expensive cologne. The hundred bucks he’d dropped on it hadn’t paid off.

“Rafe, I can’t go to the dance with you.” Kiara kept her voice low, hoping not to attract attention.

Rafe had no such qualms. His hackles were raised at once. “You what?” A peal of laughter erupted from his chest. It was disbelieving, like he thought she must be making a bad joke. Rafe Cameron could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’d been told ‘no’ in his life. Kiara doubted he even knew the meaning of the word.

Well, he was about to learn it.

“Maybe we should talk outside?” she suggested. A few more of their group were shooting curious looks their way, but they hadn’t totally made a spectacle yet.

Kiara didn’t have a high opinion of Rafe at all, but he was still Sarah’s brother. She didn’t want to humiliate him.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Rafe said. He was smiling, but his voice had hardened. “What do you mean, you can’t go with me?”

So he was going to be difficult, then. Kiara paused to set her nerves.

“I’m going with… someone else.”

“Who?” Rafe demanded. His burger was abandoned and half eaten in his plate.

Suddenly, all eyes were on her. She looked around helplessly. “I…” She couldn’t bring herself to say she didn’t know, not with Rafe glaring like that. “You don’t know him.”

Kiara jumped when Rafe abruptly stood up from the table, the bottom of it screeching across the wood. A few other patrons in the restaurant were giving them curious glances now.

“You know what? Food here’s shit, anyway. And don’t even get me started on the service.”

“Rafe,” Sarah snapped, but he was angry and determined as strode out the door, Kelce on his heels. Topper’s mouth dropped open, and he glanced between the exit and his steaming girlfriend next to him. “Oh my God. Is he serious right now?”

“Wow. I don’t even know what to say,” Kiara said, mostly because the amount of insults circling through her brain were endless. She’d always known Rafe could be a dick, but… she’d been almost scared of him just then.

Sarah stood up, flipping her hair over one shoulder and her purse over the other. “I’m sorry. I should really go after him and make sure he doesn’t do something insane.” She did a double take at Kiara. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Topper gestured up at Sarah. “I- I should probably—“

“Go ahead,” Kiara cut across him, and he obeyed. Her hands pulled at the roots of her hair.

She stared at the hardly eaten plates around her, half concerned with what her dad would have to say, and half concerned with how freaking awkward school was going to be for the next few days. She’d done so much to fit in, but sometimes she really just hated that Sarah had to be friends with people she thought so little of.

This scene was kind of inevitable, though, she realized, as she began habitually stacking the dishes that had been left strewn across the table. Rafe had been trying to flirt with her for weeks, and he wasn’t the type of person to take a subtle brush off as an answer. She had her doubts he was done with her even after the spectacle he’d just made.

“Hm, so I’m guessing this means we don’t need any refills, then?”

Their waiter _, JJ Maybank,_ had somehow snuck up on her, a pitcher of sweet tea in one hand and his brow cocked. He glanced out towards the exit, and she could just imagine that he was seeing the taillights of Topper’s jeep retreating.

“No. Thanks,” she muttered, hands grasping at the dishes. JJ snatched them away from her, his eyes running over her face. She wondered if her distress was written all over it.

“I’ll take these. Don’t feel like getting sacked today.”

And then was gone again, and not even her dad’s employee wanted to hang around her. Awesome.

Kiara felt a flash of gratefulness that she’d driven herself here after practice. Otherwise, she’d be stuck here until her dad closed down, which would be several hours from now, when all customers had vacated the premise and the floors were scrubbed clean.

She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t gotten up yet. The booth was clean, and she didn’t feel like having her dad walk out of the kitchen and start asking her about where her friends had gone. She supposed she felt like if she just sat there, the entire situation could still rewind itself to a scenario where Rafe would have the forethought to keep his mouth shut.

A shadow loomed back in her line of vision, and she nearly started when a cup slid to a stop in front of her. Upon looking up, she discovered JJ attending the table next to her. He shot her a wink, and then his attention was a little too fixated on scribbling down the family’s order to be genuine.

Kiara turned her eyes back to the cup he’d dropped off for her. A mint chip shake, with whip cream, no cherry.

She settled back into the booth, feet propped against the opposite side and a surprised smile teasing her lips.

* * *

 **Keytohappiness [9:21 pm]** : _so how was your day?_

 **Gearhead420 [10:16 pm]:** _four out of ten. Worked my ass off_

 **Keytohappiness [10:20 pm]:** _ugh. Three out of ten for me. Guys are jackasses_

 **Keytohappiness [10:21 pm]:** _Okay, maybe four. Sometimes people surprise you_

 **Gearhead420 [10:23 pm]:** _I happen to be full of surprises_

 **Gearhead420 [10:26 pm]:** _And btw I can kick someone’s ass if u want_

 **Keytohappines [10:27 pm]:** _Not a surprise a guy would say that… but thanks_

* * *

It was Friday, the night before the big Halloween dance, and JJ was so exhausted he could practically feel his eyelids drooping. He’d worked a double at the Wreck for the past two days, just so he could ensure he would have a rare day off for Saturday. He didn’t even have a costume yet, so he was hoping the extra time would help him throw something together with the help of the boys.

He twisted the knob on his front door. He hadn’t seen his dad around all week, mostly because he’d been fired from his main job and spent the days sleeping and the late nights throwing back drugs and boozing himself straight into an early grave. In the days he actually crawled out of bed, he’d make his way to the junkyard and earn a few bucks to blow.

In fact, JJ hadn’t seen him since last week, when he’d donated both his paychecks to ensure the bills were taken care of, which was why his stomach dropped in dread when he went to flick on the living room light and nothing happened.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Shit’s right,” a gruff voice ground back, and JJ paused, heart racing in his chest. One hand remained on the knob, but there was no familiar sound of angry boots stomping across the old floorboards, so he slowly let it fall. “Power’s cut off.”

JJ’s skin was buzzing. “Dad, what happened to the money I gave you?”

It was, as always, the wrong thing to say. Luke’s voice deepened, and the couch groaned like maybe he was standing up. “I’m going to need you to contribute a little more around here, you hear me?”

“There was enough money there—“

“Listen, you piece of shit!” Luke bellowed, and although JJ couldn’t see him, he could tell he’d stood up. “I need you to earn your damn keep, and you’re not doing that. You better hope you can get some more cash by next week.”

“There’s no way there’s enough from just this week,” JJ said. “I’ve worked every day—“

Something crashed above his head, and JJ’s arms covered his face. Glass rained down to the floor, but for once, his skin was left unscathed.

For now.

“You need to stop running around with your little shit friends and start putting in some more. If I see your ass leave the house this weekend, don’t even come back. You got that?”

And that was how JJ ended up in his room, door locked and back braced against it, with his head leaned back against the cool wood behind him.

He knew _Keytohappiness_ was too good to be true. Just the fucking word ‘happiness’ in her username should’ve told him all he needed to know.

He must have sat there all night, because the next thing he knew, his back was stiff, and he was jolting awake to an urgent tapping on his window. He looked around, eyes wild in preparation for his dad to have decided he was even more pissed during the night and be busting into his room, but morning light streamed in through his window, and he could just make out a curly head of brown hair looking in on him. John B waved frantically.

JJ slunk over to the window and yanked it up. “What are you doing here, man? If my dad fucking catches you—“

“You weren’t answering your phone,” John B interrupted, holding up his own phone and shaking it. “We’ve gotta go dig up some costumes. In case you forgot?”

JJ’s grip tightened on the windowsill. “I can’t go.”

“What do you mean, you can’t go?” John B demanded. Both of his hands were held up in offense.

“My dad’s in one of his moods,” JJ said vaguely.

“Since when do you care about authority? And what about that girl?”

An inkling of something trickled through JJ. Maybe disappointment, or annoyance, that John B had been his best friend for years and still hadn’t picked up on what utter hell his life was.

He reminded himself that was what he _wanted_ , and said, “I’m sure it was going to be a shit show anyway.”

“Come on, man. Your dad won’t even know you’re gone, right?”

The thought made JJ pause. He did have his dad’s schedule memorized by heart. Work at the junkyard until 5:00, if he drug his sorry ass out of bed to begin with. Drinks at the Tavern until 8:00, after which his posse carted itself down to the trailer park where Barry lived for access to various illegal substances. He’d come bumbling inside by 1:30 in the morning, or midnight at the absolute earliest. JJ knew this by heart, because on these nights his father’s temper tended to be at its most volatile, and he was sure to either be out of the house or in his room without making a peep.

John B took advantage of JJ’s silence. “You like this girl, dude. Do you really want to be the jackass who stands her up because of a bad mood?”

No, he didn’t, JJ realized. He’d never really cared what a girl thought of him before, but the image of the smile slowly falling off this faceless girl didn’t sit right with him. And he actually, really, _really_ wanted to go, pathetic as it was.

He swallowed. “Fine. But I have to be back no later than midnight. I’m not joking.”

* * *

 **Gearhead420 [4:48 pm]:** _still not telling me what ur costume is?_

 **Keytohappiness [5:11 pm]:** _Do you even know what yours is yet?_

* * *

Kiara was in a fucking Cinderella ball gown, complete with the full, glittery skirt and delicate heels. If that didn’t spell out just how backwards her life had become, then she didn’t know what did.

It was supposed to be Sarah’s costume. She’d bought it months ago in preparation for the Halloween dance, way before anyone else that lived on Planet Earth was even worrying about such a thing. She was the princess of the school, so of course she had to go as the princess to end all other princesses. Kiara had completed her obligatory best friend duties by watching as she tried on dozens of dresses and approving while the way too expensive pile of fabric that had probably been sewn together by kids in a third world country was wrapped up for Sarah to take home.

But then Sarah had seen the perfect sexy angel costume, and the ball gown was history. That is, until she’d spotted Kiara’s mediocre mermaid seashells and fish scale skirt and given it an automatic _no_.

“If you’re meeting up with this guy, then you need to _wow_ him, Kiara. Even though you won’t give me deets on him and I’m bitter, I still want you to get your man,” she’d said, and now Kiara was here, having to hold up the skirt every time she wanted to move two inches as she and Sarah slid through the doors to the gym. They needed to make a dramatic entrance, Sarah said.

Mystery Guy was supposed to be meeting her in the middle of the dance floor at eleven o’clock, and she was running two minutes late already.

Sarah’s fingers slammed angrily on her phone as they walked. She’d been fighting with Topper all day. It seemed he was pissed Sarah and he hadn’t walked in together, because obviously, that was the most important aspect of a relationship.

Sarah paused at the stairs leading down into the gym, where a sea of teenage bodies was already rolling, glad for any and every opportunity to grind. Add masks to the mix, and it was even more tempting, apparently.

“You go ahead,” Sarah muttered, nodding to the dance floor. She rolled her eyes. “I’ve gotta find Topper.”

“Good luck.” Kiara still thought Sarah should dump his ass.

Sarah shot her a mischievous smile. “You too.”

People seemed to part for Kiara as she made her way down the stairs, heart pounding. Probably because they were afraid of being knocked over by her enormous gown.

Her eyes sought out the dead center of the gym, where they almost immediately landed on the figure of a guy.

The first thing she noticed was that he was tall, with broad shoulders and fluffy blond hair he had combed neatly over the side. An athlete, if she was guessing, although she didn’t know how she’d never noticed him if that was the case. Didn’t know how she’d never noticed him, period. A dark mask rested on his nose, but the sharp lines of his jaw completed her analysis of his attractiveness. Mystery guy was _hot_.

It took her several, long seconds to realize he was dressed as Prince Charming. He was in a navy jacket with embroidered lapels, and there was just nothing else he could be.

No fucking way. But sure enough, his feet were planted firmly on the school emblem in the middle of the gym floor, and he was alone, just as they’d specified.

He’d spotted her too. His shoulders tensed, and his throat did a little bob, like he was struggling to breathe. It was how she knew for sure it was him. He didn’t speak until she came to a direct stop in front of him, offering a nervous smile.

“So… Are you—“

“Kiara Carrera?” slipped out of his mouth, like he’d wanted to make sure it was him she was walking over to before he opened his mouth.

Her heart leaped.

“Oh. Wow. Didn’t even want to pretend the mask worked?” Her hands itched to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, but it was twirled back into an elaborate half up style. Touching it would ruin it. She laced her fingers together instead.

“Pretty hard to miss you.” There was something tense in his voice, something that gave her the very distinct sense that he did not mean it in a good way. At all.

She was instantly on the defensive. “Well, I’m glad you sound so happy about it.”

“Anytime.” And there it was, the sharp, sarcastic sense of humor of the person she’d been exchanging messages with for the past few months. She never expected it to leave her feeling so hollow.

His eyes, a lovely shade of aqua, she noted, were scanning the dance floor, like he was already searching for the best escape route. She couldn’t help but be offended. What was so wrong with her? He obviously liked her personality, and Kiara had never been one to be self conscious of her looks, so what was the problem?

“Why does it matter who I am?” Kiara demanded. “We already know we get along. Who cares?”

Prince Charming, because calling him that was better than calling him Gearhead, thank you very much, let out a tiny, breath of air. It was bordering on bitter. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Kiara’s mouth snapped shut, and she looked at him. Really looked at him. At the fluff of his hair that looked straight out of Hollywood. His long eyelashes, still as he watched her.

She didn’t recognize him, but she realized maybe she was supposed to.

“That’s what I thought.” He scoffed a little, shaking his head, but at least he wasn’t walking away.

Kiara worked her lip. She thought on it, then said, “I’m sorry. I just—I get caught up sometimes. You know. We talked about it.”

He looked up, but his eyes still glinted with skepticism. “I can’t believe that was you,” he said. He looked her over for another moment, then his hand went to rub at the back of his neck. “Look, this was a mistake. Let’s forget it happened, kapeesh?”

He was turning to disappear into the crowd, and a well of panic rose in Kiara’s throat.

“Wait,” she blurted, and her hand shot out to wrap around his wrist. He flinched, and she released her grip automatically. He did, however, remain where he was standing. “Sorry. But don’t you think we should at least give it a chance?”

He started to shake his head, but he was seeming more and more resigned and less annoyed by the minute. She added, “Look, it’s really loud in here. Let’s talk outside for a minute. We went through too much trouble not to.”

His hands fell to his sides, stiff. “Fine. But I pick where we go.”


	2. part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which I wrote John B to be the friend I wish he was

JJ stood outside the music room, in a dark hallway that was explicitly off limits during dance hours, and Kiara fucking Carrera was at his side. He’d let her see exactly who she’d been pouring her heart out to.

“Do you have a bobby pin?” he asked her, like it was a normal thing to ask on a date. Holy fuck. He was kind of on a date with Kiara.

He half expected her to back out, but she merely arched a brow at him and reached around the back of her head. Within seconds, she was dropping the thin piece of metal into his palm. “This should be good.”

“Oh, it will be.”

He was still sure he’d entered some alternate reality, but he was undecided if it was heaven or hell yet.

He couldn’t stop looking at her, even as he worked the pin into the door lock. Kiara was beautiful all the time. In her regular school clothes, when she stopped by the Wreck early Saturday morning with no makeup and her hair in a bun for her biscuit and scrambled eggs.

But tonight, she was stunning, and that word wasn’t even in JJ’s vocabulary. He’d noticed her the second she’d stepped onto the stairs, and he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her since. His knees had nearly wobbled when she’d walked right up to him.

How fitting that Heyward, Pope’s father, had ended up shoving him into a Prince Charming costume. _“Damn son, if that’s the best you can do no girl’s gonna want you,”_ he sniped over JJ’s grease stained waiter’s uniform. He’d given him the embroidered jacket and mask and ordered him to pretend to be a gentleman for the night. Aside from the big ass hole in one of the pockets, it made him clean up pretty nice. No wonder Kiara didn’t recognize him, even though the thought stung more than it ought to. He shouldn’t be surprised she’d never taken notice of him.

The door swung open, just as JJ knew it would. He made a sweeping gesture forward, and Kiara’s lips pressed together in amusement. “After you.”

She stepped around him, flicking the light on and bringing the room into view. Their school didn’t provide a lot of funding to the arts, so it was made up mostly of a few shelves of badly aged instruments and a beat up stereo system. He closed the door behind them.

“You’re into music?” Kiara asked, like getting caught in there was the least of her worries. JJ had to admit he was pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, not really.” He snatched a guitar off the shelf and tugged a string, producing a horrific noise. Kiara wrinkled her nose. “But you are, unless you were catfishing me. I’m still pretty sure you’re a catfish, so.”

He held the guitar out to her, and she blinked down at it. “I play the ukulele.”

“Yeah, yeah. Same difference. Strings and all. There’s no ukulele in here.”

“It is so not the same difference—“

“Can you play it or not?” he interrupted, and Kiara grabbed the guitar from him. “Mhmm, thought so.”

JJ followed her to the choir chairs, choosing one beside her and flipping it around so his chin could rest on the back while he watched her. Had he been on a date (Well, he didn’t really do _dates_. Flirtation or hook up would be a better descriptor) with anyone else, he probably would’ve sidled up next to her so that their sides were brushing but… he was already fighting every nervous tick he had as it was. It didn’t feel like something he could just _do_ with Kiara.

She glanced up at him from under her eyelashes, squinting at him like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Her delicate fingers traced the guitar, but her attention remained on him.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

Kiara gave the guitar a few test strums, like she was adjusting to the feel of it. The sounds melted into a rhythm slowly but surely, becoming more and more confident.

JJ didn’t know jack shit about music, but the sound of the strings was pleasing, and he could tell she was talented. As she got more into it, she began to hum along under her breath.

He nudged her foot with his where it was peeking out from under her dress. Kiara stopped playing at once, eyebrows scrunched together.

“What, no glass slipper?” he asked, with foe innocence.

“Didn’t have those at the mall.” She glanced down at the guitar in her hand, her grip tightening on it. “What is it? Was it bad?”

“You sing too, right?”

“What do I look like, a free show?” Kiara challenged, but from the amused glint in her eye, he thought she was pleased he remembered. At the very least, she seemed to be enjoying herself, which was so many levels of surreal he didn’t even know how to begin.

JJ bumped her foot with his again. “Free show, you said?”

“Oh my god. I’ll sing if you just shut up.”

She started playing again, building up the music before gradually adding her voice to the mix. It carried throughout the room, reverberating deep into his chest and making his heart sing with perhaps the closest thing to peace he’d ever felt.

She didn’t look at him until she was finished, but chills danced along his skin the entire time. One, final note strummed, and then she was watching him, her curls a perfect curtain around her face.

Silence fell in the room, but JJ could still hear the echo of Kiara’s voice. She shifted her legs nervously. “I don’t usually sing for people, and that one’s not really done. I know it’s nothing special—“

“It was fucking amazing,” he found himself saying. Her eyes shone with suspicion, and then slowly growing pride as they darted over his face, like she was trying to make sure he was being truthful.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You sound like an angel,” JJ said, more and more enthusiastic by the minute. Her smile flashed wider, bashful, but undeniably pleased.

“Alright, now you’re just trying to suck up to me.”

“Totally am not.”

They paused, and Kiara was smiling at him over the guitar, bright and beautiful. JJ didn’t realize he was grinning back until his cheeks began to ache from the strain.

Kiara cleared her throat, breaking the moment. She shot to her feet, and for one panicked moment, JJ thought she was going to call an end to the night. He knew it had to end sooner or later, but he wasn’t ready just yet.

To his relief, she just set the guitar back onto its shelf. Once it was in place, she spun back around towards him.

“So,” Kiara said, and her hands splayed out for a moment before she let them fall somewhat awkwardly back to her sides. “Do you want to dance?”

“Right here?” He wondered if he could talk her into singing again while they danced.

She reached for a dusty black music box, glancing at him over her shoulder and shrugging like _why not_? A hideous classical song belted over the old speakers, and her hands shot out to turn the dial so the volume didn’t attract every teacher in the building.

“Jesus, Kiara.” JJ pretended to cover his ears. Even so, he couldn’t ignore how nice her name felt on his lips.

Kiara directed the CD to a slightly less awful strumming of instruments, glaring at him. Still not something JJ would pick, but at least it didn’t make him want to rip out his eardrums.

“There aren’t _really_ many options here.”

She approached him, and he at first thought maybe she would reach out and grab his hand again like she had earlier. She appeared to think better of it though, he realized, with some level of humiliation, when her hand hovered in the air between them, questioning.

JJ swallowed, and then he’d taken her hand in his, sweeping her forward to wrap his other around her hip. He heard a breath _whoosh_ through her lips. He covered his nerves that he’d overstepped with a lazy grin.

Kiara recovered quickly. She beamed back, and the welcome weight of her free hand settled on his shoulder. He never imagined being this close to her, but he could smell the coconut notes of her shampoo and count the strands in her hair that were lighter from the summer sun.

Her gaze turned solemn. “How don’t I know who you are?” She sounded genuinely concerned, and JJ hoped his palms weren’t sweating.

“Dunno. Probably better you don’t.”

“I’m serious. I feel like such a bitch.” He could tell she meant it.

Apparently, she couldn’t tell he was totally serious too. She was looking at him in a way that made him feel like he’d get down on his knees and confess anything she wanted, and that was not in his forecast for tonight.

JJ leaned forward, dragging Kiara into a sudden dip that left her erupting with laughter. “Oh my god—whiplash? Really? That’s your move?”

He pulled her closer, half pretending he was someone else. Which, wasn’t he pretty much for the night? “I’ve got so many moves. So many.” He made sure his breath ghosted her ear, and he didn’t think he imagined the shiver than ran down her neck.

Still, Kiara nudged his face away, scoffing. “Oh, please.” Her chin fell onto his shoulder, and she was suddenly pressed so close to him JJ was sure she could hear his heart hammering in his chest. “Are you okay with it being me?”

Her voice waivered, and for the first time, JJ was fully able to connect Kiara with the secretly sensitive girl he’d been texting for months. He rubbed circles on her back, breath nearly catching when he brushed warm skin. “Yeah,” he admitted. “You’re great, Kie.”

Kiara raised her head back off his shoulder, and her face was glowing. “You called me Kie.”

“Oh. My bad,” JJ said, hand stilling on her back momentarily. “Keytohappiness, Kie.”

She worked her lip. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, hers flickered to his mouth and back up again. “I kinda like it.”

JJ couldn’t hold back the smile playing at his lips. He probably would’ve come up with a response had his life not flashed before his eyes with the shine of a flashlight suddenly beaming straight through the window in the classroom door.

“Oh, shit. It’s Gary,” he realized.

Kiara squinted into the light, shielding her eyes. She looked from him to the door, mildly alarmed. “Who?”

“We gotta go!”

And then he’d wrapped his hand around her wrist, tugging her straight out of the classroom and past the baffled school security guard.

A shout of, “Hey, you kids get back here!” carried down the hall after them, but JJ was experienced enough to know that Gary would never be able to keep up with them.

“Fat chance, man!” he yelled back, and Kiara pinched his arm.

“Shut up, shut up!” she hissed, but it was hard to take her seriously when it came out between fits of laughter. He chuckled and yanked her down a sharp corner. It was a secondary path to the gym, where they could make it inside and blend right in with the crowd.

It was as easy as JJ had predicted. Gary’s yells became drowned out by the sounds of the rest of the school, and JJ could just picture him, face red and hunched over against his knees as he realized he could never catch up to the prowlers.

Kiara had stopped next to him, clutching his shoulder from laughing so hard. “Oh my god. I can’t believe we just did that.” She had to raise her voice to a near shout now that they had rejoined the remainder of the student body.

“The only thing that matters is we didn’t get caught,” JJ said, only twenty-five percent joking. Okay, he was zero percent joking, especially because she didn’t look mad.

Whatever else he may have been planning to say got caught in his throat when her hand worked its way out of his grip around her wrist and slid down to intertwine their fingers instead. Her face had softened again.

“That was kind of the most fun I’ve had in… Probably ever,” she said, and his chest swelled with pride and probably a little bit of awe.

“Oh…” JJ squeezed her hand back, experimentally, and her smile widened. “You’re welcome.”

“So,” Kiara started, stepping closer to him. She was biting her lip. “Do we want to do this again?”

JJ stared at her. Kiara Carrera was watching him with hopeful eyes, and it hit him like a sledgehammer that this girl was just about everything he’d ever want, but… He wouldn’t be what she wanted. Not really.

He couldn’t imagine watching her expression fall when she realized who he was. That he couldn’t even afford to take her out on a proper date without picking up an extra shift. Even if by some miracle, his identity didn’t sway her, a girl like her deserved better than cheap takeout and cancelled plans.

She sensed his hesitation. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay. But I want to.”

“I do too,” JJ said, stupidly, and she apparently didn’t realize he was struggling to add the ‘but’. Her face broke back out into a relieved smile.

“Thank god. I thought you were about to dump me already,” Kiara joked, and holy shit, her fingertips were skirting his jaw, creepy towards his mask—

JJ wasn’t sure what would’ve happened next. He had an inkling, and it would have been monumentally stupid, but… he couldn’t say he didn’t kind of wish the shrill, horrible dinging on his phone couldn’t have waited another five minutes to bring him hurdling back to reality.

They leapt apart, and JJ fumbled with his phone. It was midnight.

“Shit,” he muttered, shoving the device back into a pocket. He had to find John B, right fucking away. They’d driven the Twinkie there, and he had the keys, of course.

“What is it?” Kiara asked, her eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“Look, I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry.”

“Wait! Seriously?”

The small part of JJ that wasn’t spiraling into a panic at the realization that his dad might already be home, that he should’ve left at least ten minutes ago, realized what an asshole move it was to break into a run. He did it anyway, pushing past gyrating bodies.

“I’m really sorry!” he yelled, already beginning to lose sight of Kiara in the crowd.

It was probably for the best. This way, she’d probably be pissed enough to not think about him much after the night was over, and it would make his inevitable dropping off the face of the earth easier for her.

But Kiara was more stubborn that he gave her credit for.

“Hey, at least tell me who you are! Wait!” She was losing him, fast, but he could still see her eyes on him from where she struggled to push through the crowd as efficiently as he did. It seemed her enormous ball gown was a hindrance, but he could make out her glare, clear as day.

John B was not where he expected him to be.

A scream echoed throughout the room, and a crowd of people near the punch bowl lurched. Two bodies toppled around on the floor, and JJ paused his sprint long enough to spot a familiar head of chocolate curls.

“Topper, stop!” someone screeched, and it was Sarah Cameron. Her angel corset was stained red, like someone had knocked the entire punch bowl on her, and her hands were in her hair. He wasn’t sure why she was giving Topper orders, because John B was definitely the one on top, socking the other boy firmly in the face.

JJ was staring, dumbstruck, when someone yanked on the back of his shoulders. His stomach dropped, but he was only met with Pope’s frantic gaze. “Thank goodness you’re here. You’ve got to stop him, or we are so going to get thrown out—“

JJ’s hands were on John B’s arms almost immediately. He was still swinging, grunting with the effort to keep going at Topper, who was rolling around on the floor clutching at his nose. “Come on, bro. You can beat his ass later, but I’ve gotta get out of here now.”

“But—“

He didn’t spot Kiara, but she was bound to show up any second now. _“Now_.”

The run to the Twinkie was a blur. Teachers were shouting, Topper’s friends were screaming threats, and he could still hear Kiara begging for him to wait just a second, which he was sure he’d never forget. A weight lifted off his chest when he was sprawled in the familiar moth-eaten seats of the Twinkie.

They peeled out of the parking lot with a screech of tires, heading in the direction of JJ’s house.

“We’re expelled,” Pope deadpanned. “We’re definitely expelled.”

“He wouldn’t let go of Sarah, and she kept asking him to stop,” John B raved, and his arms were shaking. JJ had never seen him so angry. Normally, he was the designated short fuse of the friend group.

“Just drive, dude.” It had to be at least ten after by now. He reached for his phone, and his fingers dropped straight through… Shit. The hole.

His phone was long gone.

* * *

**Keytohappiness [12:32 am]:** _Hey. Is everything okay?_

**Keytohappiness [3:27 pm]:** _I hope you aren’t leaving me on read to be a jackass and it’s just because I have your phone._

* * *

Not only had he run out on her at the dance like the place was on fire, but now he was avoiding her.

Kiara had to find him. It sounded stupid, but she’d never once felt a connection with someone the way she had with him, had never been able to talk to someone the way she did him. It had seemed too good to be true, but impossibly, talking to him in person had been even easier than over text.

She had only three sure-fire clues to help her find him.

  1. He had dropped his phone, and she had it. It was an iPhone 5c, but it was locked tight.
  2. He was blond.
  3. He had probably seen his fair share of detentions.



She was also starting with the athletic teams, because he had to play a sport. Had to. He had been built under his costume, and when his fingers had brushed hers while they danced, she’d definitely felt calluses.

“Did his ass look like it would look good in baseball pants?” Sarah was laid on her back on her king sized bed, feet propped straight up against the headboard and her nose in their freshman yearbook.

Kiara didn’t have to think about it for long. “Definitely.”

“Michael Miller?”

“This guy is blond.”

“Michael is a little strawberry!” Sarah’s head tilted as she squinted at the yearbook. She was on the baseball team’s page, no doubt. She’d had a knock down drag out with Topper the night of the dance, resulting in a breakup and her burying all of her pent up energy into getting Kiara a boyfriend instead.

She also couldn’t stop talking about the oddly heroic guy who’d yanked Topper off of her when he’d had a vice grip on her arm, but seemed keen to find Kiara’s mystery man first.

“Definitely not Michael Miller,” Kiara reaffirmed. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, self-conscious. “And he had amazing eyes.”

Sarah glanced up from the yearbook to stare at her, and Kiara pretended it didn’t mean anything. That she wasn’t in as deep as she was.

“What about Daniel Calhoun?”

Kiara wrinkled her nose. “Ew. No. I can’t stand him.”

Plus, she thought back to how she’d started talking to this guy in the first place. They’d been arguing over a boat motor he was putting back together. Daniel Calhoun couldn’t even name the parts if someone paid him.

Of course, maybe he was callused from working manually, and not sports at all…

“Andrew Fox?”

“I don’t think so.” But could she rule it out for sure? “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Kiara ran her fingers over her eyes, and Sarah frowned sympathetically. “Hey, we’ll find him. He’ll probably text you as soon as he gets a new phone. He doesn’t know you have his.”

She really hoped so. She’d never imagined she’d be the girl practically begging for a guy’s attention.

* * *

**Keytohappiness [7:07 am]:** _I really hate you for making me the type of girl who messages someone who leaves her on read._

* * *

“Holy shit. Kiara Carrera?”

John B had repeated that exact phrase at least ten times.

“Shut up, shut up!” JJ scowled, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. Mike was nowhere to be seen, but the last place he wanted Kiara to figure out who he was was from her father. He was taking zero chances.

“Sorry.” John B lowered his voice. “Holy shit.”

JJ still couldn’t believe it himself. He’d had the nicest night of his life in recent memory, and he’d made it home hours before his dad. Luke hadn’t stumbled through the door until it was pushing three am.

It was now Monday morning, and JJ was finally off house arrest. He had no idea how he was going to make up the difference in the power bill and manage to scrounge up a new phone. Maybe if he could find someone pawning a stolen one…

“I know. What the fuck, right?”

John B was still shaking his head. Today, he was the one sporting the black eye. Apparently Topper had given it to him before he gained the upper hand in their tussle. “So, what did she say about you being you?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s awesome, man. Just please don’t screw up and get us fired.”

“No, I mean nothing, because she doesn’t know it was me,” JJ clarified. He scrubbed the table he was cleaning harder than was strictly necessary. It was a slow day, which gave him entirely too much time to dwell. JJ fucking hated dwelling. He preferred to be on the move, to have something to distract himself with.

“Wait…” John B frowned the way he did when Pope tried to explain a complicated math problem to him, and he tried to pay attention just to be polite. “So when are you talking to her?”

“Uh, never.”

They stared at each other. John B was glaring now. “But I thought you said you guys had a good time!”

“Come on bro. She doesn’t want to be seen with someone like me.”

He didn’t even have to think it over. There was no way in God’s Green Earth that he could tell her who he was. She was expecting Prince Charming, not some gutter rat from the poor side of town that would have all of her rich friends turning up their noses.

“Well, looks like now’s your chance to find out,” John B said, and JJ followed his gaze absently to the door. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of Kiara and Sarah meandering in.

He spun around towards the window and away from them, tugging his hat further over his face like it could make him become invisible. “Shit!”

“They’re not even looking over here,” John B said. If anything, he sounded disappointed about it. “You don’t think Sarah saw me Saturday, do you?”

JJ elbowed him in the ribs. “Go see what they want.”

“Fine,” John B surrendered, rubbing as his side. JJ suspected he was secretly glad for an excuse to talk to Sarah. Or stare at her up close, or whatever the hell ran through his friend’s brain.

JJ made a very big point of _not looking_ while John B approached the girls. Okay, so maybe he snuck a peek. Or a couple.

Kiara had her hair pulled half up in a bun that day, and she appeared to give John B a small smile when he handed her and Sarah each a wrapping from the kitchen. Whatever they were getting, Mike had apparently had it ready for them.

She didn’t even look in JJ’s direction, which he should be grateful for, but after the dance, returning to the periphery of her existence left him feeling empty. He glared down at the spotless surface of the table. He’d never cleaned something so hard in his life.

The girls left just as quickly as they’d come, on track to be more on time for class that the two of them. John B wandered back over to JJ, eyes glazed over and totally dazed out of his mind.

“Well?” JJ prodded, once Kiara was long gone. “What did they want?”

“Biscuits. Sarah got bacon and cheese on hers.”

JJ stopped scrubbing. He stared at John B. John B stared back. His eye twitched, and JJ was upon him with a horrible, high-pitched imitation of Sarah’s voice. “Oh my hero! The one who fucked up my boyfriend!”

* * *

**Keytohappiness [12:31 pm]:** _Today Mrs. Culliver asked me who the ‘cute prince’ I went to the dance with is… if only I knew, right?_

* * *

Kiara waited all day for a surprise tap on the shoulder. A nervous clearing of a throat. Anything that would indicate the guy she’d had an amazing time at the dance with had finally approached her to say, _Hey, sorry I had to run out on you like that. It’s me!_

None came.

She’d even gone through the trouble to look extra cute that day. She’d fluffed her curls, had reluctantly asked Sarah to help her choose between two outfits. Sarah had thrived off of her energy all weekend, but the gnawing in Kiara’s belly was growing more and more persistent by the hour.

He didn’t want to be found.

“Shit, bio was awful. Topper was staring at me the entire time and I just started to feel guilty again, and then I made the mistake of letting him stop me on the way out—Kiara? Are you even listening?”

Kiara blinked out of her trance-like state. She’d been leaned up against the locker next to Sarah’s, staring at each face that walked by like maybe she could weed her prince charming out through eye contact.

“Sorry,” she said. “I am.”

Sarah narrowed her eyes. She swung her arms up into a crossed position, but she didn’t look mad. “You are not.”

“Topper’s being obsessive again. As usual.” Kiara tilted her head meaningfully, hoping Sarah would think back on all the times she’d advised her to dump him throughout the past month. She’d known something like this was long coming.

“Hm. Right.” Sarah surveyed Kiara again, then whipped out her phone. She leaned back against the lockers, and her skirt road up at the action. Kiara could just picture every guy passing by foaming at the mouth now that she was officially single again. “But I’m still taking matters into my own hands.”

Kiara watched warily as Sarah’s fingers slid across the screen of her phone. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.”

“Sarah…”

Sarah gave one final, triumphant tap. Her face blossomed into a mischievous smile. “Done.”

She flashed the screen for Kiara to see, and her mouth nearly dropped open. Right there, ruining Sarah’s million dollar Instagram feed, was a big fat question mark with the caption, “Have you seen Prince Charming? Hot, blond, tall. Last seen at Halloween dance. If found, please contact. Must answer a survey question! No creeps.”

“Sar _ah_.” Kiara swiped at the phone, which Sarah shoved back into her purse. “Are you serious?”

“He can play hard to get all he wants, but his friends will give him away if nothing else. Guys love to brag.”

“Doesn’t seem like he thinks I’m much to brag about,” Kiara complained. He didn’t like who she was. That had to be it, plain and simple, and she really didn’t know how to take that other than to be a bit offended. And a lot hurt, if she was being honest.

Sarah gave her a critical once over. “No, he definitely told them about you.”

Kiara resisted the urge to groan. She hoped he hadn’t told them about the texts reeking of desperation, too.

* * *

**Keytohappiness [6:43 pm]:** _Just fyi, that post was not my idea_

* * *

It had taken JJ hours to discover the Instagram post. Phoneless, he might not have seen it at all if it wasn’t for John B running up to him, panting and saying, “You _sure_ she’s gonna let this go, huh?”

Because Sarah Cameron had posted it, for all 6,772 of her followers to see, and of course John B was following her. Most of the girls on the cheerleading squad had shared it on their stories, and it had become a topic of small talk around the school. The girls all seemed to think they’d entered into some fucking romantic comedy, as if JJ was cut out to be the romantic lead. They’d lose their shit if they knew it was him, Kiara most of all.

Honestly, he’d fully expected her to go from hurt to full out pissed at him by this point, so the fact that she was still looking for him was… a shock.

He was sure she’d been messaging him. He had no phone to check, and when John B or Pope offered for him to log into his account on theirs, he had refused. He was afraid if he opened that door, the floodgates would pour out and he’d tell her everything like the moron he was. It wouldn’t take much, and he wasn’t stupid enough to chance it.

Now, Sarah’s post had been up for two days, and JJ was working a closing shift at the Wreck sans John B. Mike had not coped well with JJ’s lack of a phone; he enjoyed calling him in last minute because he couldn’t turn down the money if someone else called out and a replacement was needed, but nothing could be done.

It had been a generally sucky shift. Ernie had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and had been in a piss poor mood, his least favorite family with that horrible screaming toddler had come in, and he’d hardly had a single decent tipper all night.

With his luck, it was only expected that Kiara walk in.

It was only fifteen minutes until closing, so he had a wild hope that she was just looking for Mike. She proved him wrong when she plopped down in her usual seat at the corner of the counter.

And shit. He was the only server left.

She didn’t seem to really notice his presence, of course, but seeing Kiara was an entirely different experience when he knew the way she smelled, the way the crinkles around her eyes faded away as her laughter died into a steady, pleased smile. He knew that she had a passion for music, and she was really fucking good at it. She felt like her parents didn’t get her, even though she loved them, and she felt alone amongst her friend group. She had a heart so big she had once sent him photos of an injured squirrel she’d picked up off the side of the road and driven personally to a wildlife rehabilitation center.

Fuck.

JJ clenched his jaw and made his way over towards her. He made sure his hat was shadowing his face, but Kiara wasn’t really looking anyway. Her chin was propped on her fist like she was deep in thought, and she had on an oversized cheerleading warm-up that was bunched at the sleeves.

“Mint chip shake?” he managed.

For a moment, he wondered if she’d even heard him, but then her eyes drifted to him. “Oh. Sure,” she said, sounding resigned.

Thank fuck he found the right cups when he went to grab them this time, but JJ was screaming on the inside. It would only take one double take, one misstep on his part for her to put the puzzle pieces together and call him out on who he was.

And… She was right there. What would happen if he just told her? If John B was right and she wouldn’t care, was it worth the risk?

They fell into a silence that was awkward on JJ’s part, and likely oblivious on Kiara’s. Her face was a little gloomy, like she was in a bad mood. He wondered if that was partly his fault, or if it was unrelated. Maybe she’d had enough thinking about him days ago.

“You ever have a really fucking bad week?” Kiara blurted.

JJ lifted his eyebrows. Her milkshake was done, so he pulled out the can of whipped cream. “Extra whipped cream, then?”

She let out a halfhearted laugh. “Sure.”

He held the button down until the foam was extending well over the rim of the cup, and then handed it to her with a slight flourish. No straw, because she always carried her metal one in her purse. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

JJ assumed that would be the last of their interaction, which was already far more than any they’d had maskless. It was almost closing time anyway, and being around her was making him feel like he needed to crawl out of his skin. He reached for the broom, and she surprised him again.

“Need any help? I know Dad won’t be any up here.”

It took him several moments to realize she was asking if he wanted her to help him close. He shook his head. “Nah. It’s fine. Not much left anyway.”

He felt her studying him as he brushed up stray crumbs into his dustpan, eyes dark and curious. No sudden recognition flashed in them, though, and JJ was sure that should relieve him. It really didn’t.

Kiara didn’t take much stock in what he said, because one minute he looked down and she was sipping her shake, legs swinging from her stool, and the next she was wiping down the table the toddler terror had visited. Her nose wrinkled. “The Eatons?”

“Awful screaming brat?”

“Yup.” She tossed her paper towels in the trash, leaving the table a lot shinier than JJ probably would have. “I don’t miss that.”

“I won’t miss any of it,” he muttered, which was probably stupid, considering he was talking about her family business.

Kiara didn’t appear offended, though. She snorted. “I know you like the free food.”

“Doesn’t hurt.“ JJ continued sweeping, and she ran over a few stray messes on the remaining tables. “When you coming back?

“When cheer season ends. The football team sucks ass, so… Probably like two weeks.” She didn’t sound as disappointed as he expected. Cheerleading probably wasn’t her favorite thing, he realized, remembering all the times she’d mentioned not totally feeling like she fit in in her friend groups. “Guess this will be a regular thing, huh?”

She raised a wry brow, and he realized she was referring to the two of them closing together. He breathed, “Mhmm.”

This easy energy between them reminded him of when they’d hung out at the Halloween dance. It was quieter and less exciting, but the vibe was pleasant, and he surprised himself by realizing he could actually see himself hanging out with this girl.

And this was as him. JJ.

Guilt rushed through him, overwhelming and more than a little embarrassing.

“Kiara, look…” JJ swallowed, and Kiara turned to watch him curiously. He was going to do it. He was really fucking going to do it. “I—“

“Oh, Kiara. Hey,” Mike’s voice carried from behind them, where he was flipping the lights off in the kitchen. He wrapped an arm around his daughter. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kiara glanced at JJ, offering a little quirk of her lips. She added, “I was just talking to JJ.”

And suddenly he was a little lightheaded, because she _did_ know his name. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Oh.” Mike gave him a double take. JJ was sure he wasn’t thinking anything good. He was every father’s walking nightmare, after all. “Everything finished here?”

“Uh, yeah,” JJ said, and Kiara nodded. Her mood really had improved significantly from the time she’d walked in the restaurant, and he selfishly wondered if he’d helped boost it.

After he’d no doubt helped ruin it with his second fucking identity, of course.

“See you tomorrow then,” Mike said, and it was both a goodbye and a mild warning. He’d overslept for _one_ shift because he had no phone to wake him up…

Kiara gave him a little wave. “See you later.”

“Bye.” He cleared his throat. “Uh. See you at school.”

And yeah. Okay. He totally had to tell her.

* * *

**Keytohappiness [1:32 am]:** _Fine. If you want to just drop off the face of the Earth, drop off._

_Keytohappiess unsent ‘Fine. If you want to just drop off the face of the Earth, drop off’._

* * *

JJ and John B tended to skip fifth period for a smoke in the boys’ bathroom. Well, JJ always liked to smoke, and John B mostly liked to skive off intro to team sports. By some miracle, they’d convinced Pope to join today, so JJ thought it was as good a time as any to broach the subject.

“So,” JJ started, trying to sound casual. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. It was a near constant habit because one of the straps was hardly hanging on by a few threads. “I talked to her last night.”

Thankfully, he didn’t have to say who ‘her’ was. John B and Pope’s heads swung towards him, to each other, and then back again.

“Yeah? How’d it go?” John B pressed. The beginning of a grin was pulling at his lips.

“Well, she didn’t tell me to go fuck myself, so. Gotta start somewhere, right?”

Pope’s eyes were wide. He glanced around the bathroom, like he was making sure it was just them. “Wait. So, are you like, dating Kiara now?”

“No, no, no,” JJ correct. He fumbled with his juul, and the familiar citrus flavor relaxed him in the wake of his friends’ crazed looks. “I took her order at the Wreck. Had an actual conversation, can you believe it?”

“So you _didn’t_ tell her it was you at the dance?” Pope demanded.

John B’s face fell. “Come on, JJ.”

“ _Come on,_ guys. I tried to tell her, like a freaking idiot, and then her dad came over. But she’s gonna be pissed when she finds out I’m gearhead. If, I mean.”

JJ ran his free hand through his hair while he was talking, no doubt leaving the strands standing on end. It was a very different look than when he’d combed it for the Halloween dance, but he could remember girls leaning in, whispering how sexy it looked like this with the tang of weed hanging off their clothes. He wondered which way Kiara would prefer it.

“Seriously, just give it a try, would you? She’s still looking all over for you,” John B argued.

“I’m sorry,” Pope said. “Did you just say _gear_ _head_?”

“Her dad probably won’t like it either. I’m sure he’d love to fire me,” JJ continued, completely ignoring Pope. He’d come up with his username in the sixth grade, and he used it everywhere. Sue him.

“If the name gear head didn’t scare her off, nothing will,” Pope muttered.

John B leaned back against the cinderblock walls, crossing his arms. He declared, “I think you need to take a chance on romance.”

“Oh, wow, okay,” Pope said, and JJ scowled in disbelief. He spun the dial on the sink just to flick water droplets in John B’s face.

“What, man? Please don’t ever say those words to me again.”

“It’s a little pathetic,” Pope agreed.

“Seriously,” John B stressed. He threw up his hands. “Either you tell her, and it works out, or you tell her, and she’s not someone you care about anyway. Right?”

JJ knew he was right. He’d always been someone who strived not to give a fuck what others thought of him. Sure, it stung when people heard the name Maybank and whispered behind their hands, but it stung a lot less when he hid it behind a smile or a sharp tongued retort.

Truthfully... If Kiara was the person he thought she was, then it wouldn’t matter to her. He didn’t want to admit that maybe what he was afraid of wasn’t that she would turn him down, but that she wouldn’t.

She deserved… better, frankly. He didn’t want people whispering about her, too, just because he was standing next to her.

“Yeah, man,” Pope said, and his voice had softened now. “And don’t you kind of think you owe her the truth after all of this?”

JJ focused on the _tap tap tap_ of the sink. There had been an on and off leak there for weeks, now. “Okay,” he relented. “I’ll try to figure out how to tell her.”

Whatever relief or dismay the boys might have displayed at his decision was cut short by the bell. They might be able to skip team sports, but unfortunately, history was not so easy to get away with.

“That’s great news.” Pope hefted his bag back onto his shoulders. “But I am so not missing another class.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.” JJ rolled his eyes, and almost ran smack into Rafe Cameron as he rounded the corner to exit the bathroom.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t see you there,” Rafe said, and if it was possible, there was something even worse than usual glinting in his eyes. “As usual.”

JJ prickled with unease, his fight or flight senses kicking in.

“Fuck off,” he said, and shoved his way around Rafe. John B and Pope scurried after him, John B glowering back in Rafe’s direction and Pope looking around like the rest of his posse was going to appear to jump them like a pack of rabid dogs.

They didn’t, and JJ pushed Rafe to the back of his mind in favor of wondering how in the hell he was going to approach Kiara.

* * *

**Keytohappiness [12:58 am]:** _Look… I’m sorry. I’m being annoying. If you want your phone back, I’d love to give it to you. You don’t ever have to talk to me again after but I feel like I’m holding it hostage_

* * *

It was Thursday night, and Kiara and Sarah were laid back on Sarah’s enormous bed with rom coms playing like a bad train wreck on her television. Sarah was nursing a glass of wine, but Kiara had stuck to a coke, since it was a school night and she still had to drive home. The lights were so dim Kiara could no longer make out the exact color of Sarah’s pajama bottoms.

Sarah called what they were doing moving on. Kiara called it wallowing. But since they’d both effectively just gone through a breakup of sorts and Sarah’s was more official, her say edged Kiara’s out.

“If we’re both single when we’re 35, we should just get married,” Sarah said. She was already beginning to slur her words, but she always had been a bit of a lightweight.

Kiara patted her shoulder. “Sure.”

As if Sarah would stay single more than a month. Two, max.

“I still think we’re gonna find your guy,” Sarah proclaimed, and Kiara noticed her glancing at her phone. She’d finally had to block Topper’s number, but that hadn’t stopped her from constantly checking for updates on Kiara’s “prince charming”.

“I say we both start from scratch.” Kiara was tired of waiting. She had already put herself out there more than she ever thought was possible for her, and he hadn’t taken it. His loss, as far as she was concerned.

Still sucked, though.

“I dunno,” Sarah said. “That guy that punched Topper? He looked kind of cute from behind.”

Kiara didn’t support violence, but she did support a man who supported a woman saying no. Wasn’t that really the more important of the two? She gave a little nod of encouragement

The scene on the TV shifted to a dramatic love confession in the rain, and Kiara pursed her lips. Men in real life had no guts to do such a thing. Her mind drifted back to Rafe, then, and she wrinkled her nose. She took it back: either they had no guts, or entirely too many.

She threw the comforter off the legs and shifted so she was hanging off the bed. “Snacks?”

There were some veggie straws in the Cameron’s snack cabinet that Kiara had been eyeballing on and off all afternoon, and if there was a time to indulge, this was it. Sarah frowned at the TV, then down at her half empty glass of wine.

“No, I think I’m good. Thanks.”

Kiara padded down the winding staircase to the kitchen, a familiar path she’d followed dozes of times. Even so, she still never got over just how grand the Cameron house was, especially since Sarah’s new stepmother Rose had been added to the mix. She had expensive taste and didn’t hesitate to capitalize on Ward’s wealth.

Kiara had her nose in the snack cabinet and was debating on whether or not she should grab some fudge rounds too when she was interrupted.

“Hey there, Kiara.”

Kiara jumped at the sound of Rafe’s voice. Speak of the devil.

He had materialized around the corner of the kitchen and was leering at her from across the counter. The threat of running into him and having him make some sketchy comment had always been the worst thing about staying over at Sarah’s house, especially now that she had actively turned him down.

He looked way too satisfied to see her considering the tension their recent interactions had carried. It made the back of Kiara’s neck prickle.

Because it was his house, and she couldn’t exactly tell him to get the fuck out, she muttered an unenthusiastic greeting. “Hey.”

Rafe slunk around the island sink, and she forced herself to stand her ground. He was playing at something, she knew.

He proved her right when he said, “So. You heard from gearhead lately?”

Kiara froze. The hand holding the veggie straws dropped them back into the cabinet, forgotten. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, you know. Your little texting prince charming the whole school is talking about.”

“How do you know that name?” she asked, mind running through a million scenarios, each worse than the last. Was Rafe behind this whole thing? Had he and his cronies somehow done this to sabotage her, to make her look stupid? Was that why she was being ghosted now?

“Relax,” Rafe urged. He was wearing a smirk, watching her like a cat who’d batted a mouse into a corner. He was toying with her, trying to get her to beg for more information. She didn’t even have the presence of mind to back away when he leaned in, way too close for comfort, to whisper, “I happen to know who he is.”

Logically, Kiara knew nothing good could come out of this situation. Rafe was a snake, but her ears were ringing and _she needed to know._

“Who?” she demanded.

His smirk widened.

* * *

JJ had accepted Kiara having a presence at the Wreck as a fact of life as long as he worked there. Hell, after the other night, he almost even craved it.

What he didn’t expect was her storming in, hair flying around her head and wrath in her every movement. She was in little sea turtle printed pants that were almost definitely pajamas, and her eyes were zeroed in on him. She marched right up to where he was refilling ketchup bottles and slammed something down in front of him.

His heart sank to his stomach when he made out the shape of his phone.

“What the _fuck_?” she whisper-yelled, and a few lingering customers shot them offended glances.

He wondered if he should play dumb. Try to be funny and make a joke about her finding his phone

What came out of his mouth wasn’t nearly as impressive. “Oh, shit.”

“Seriously?” Kiara snapped, and fury flashed in her eyes, hot flames raging. “You made me look so _stupid_ here the other day!”

His jaw clenched. His fingers crept to the back of his neck, and yeah, he wasn’t sure how he imagined this going, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. This was his worst-case scenario that had been set ablaze and then cast down to hell.

“I was gonna tell you,” JJ said. And then, a word he hated saying, “Sorry.”

“When?” Her annoyance hadn’t died down, and she appeared to be searching for something in his face that he wasn’t sure she’d find.

JJ liked to consider himself a brilliant liar. He could bullshit his way through, tell her he had something planned, but he had a feeling she’d see right through it even if he tried. He settled on honesty. “I don’t know, okay?”

“That’s just great.” Her eyes were shining, like she was getting so angry she might be near tears. “You could’ve just told me ‘thanks but no thanks’, you know.”

Kiara spun around, heading for the door. “Kiara,” he called, but it went ignored. If anything, she only picked up her pace. He caught a flash of her hand rubbing at her eye that made him feel like the biggest piece of shit ever shat.

Her progress halted at the door, but it wasn’t because he’d swayed her.

She did a slow about face and stomped back over, fists bunched at her sides until she shoved something into his chest. “And take your stupid phone back already.”

And then she did leave, without once looking back.

JJ was numb through the close of the shift and the drive to his house. It was really over, ended on the worst possible note. He’d braced himself for it, but somehow, that didn’t make the wound nip at him less.

It was that stupid fucking thread of hope that just maybe something would turn out in his favor, just once.

When JJ pushed open the door of his house, the first thing that registered was that the house was lit up. His stomach rolled with unease.

The slim hope that his dad wouldn’t notice him coming home was squashed when Luke came into focus. He was sitting on their ratty old couch, nursing a beer bottle and counting a wad of bills. “Finally decided to show your face, huh?”

“I was working, Dad.”

“Need to be doing more if it,” Luke grunted.

There was no scenario in which their power had been turned on legally, which didn’t bother JJ on principle. The idea that Luke had had his grubby hands in whatever he’d been selling, though, was terrifying. He was at his worst when he was under the influence, and his red rimmed, watery eyes weren’t a promising sign.

“And that bullshit school thing? It’s taking up time that could be spent earning your keep.”

JJ bristled. It wasn’t that he had never thought of dropping out of school, of living up to his family legacy of high school drop outs and under the table drug dealers. High school _was_ a bunch of bullshit, but if it gave him even the slightest amount of time out of his house, if it gave him a better chance of getting out permanently, he wasn’t even going to consider ditching it.

Because he’d had a _really_ shit day, he couldn’t help but run his mouth. “No. I already bring in more than you.”

And that was his mistake.

JJ hated him. He didn’t hate him. He hated him.

He really fucking wished he could hate him.

* * *

Kiara felt so stupid. Of course it was JJ Maybank. It became clear as day when she thought about it. The lines of his jaw, the slope of his nose. And he was ridiculously attractive, something she had somehow never consciously acknowledged very much until she was looking him in the eye and connecting him with Prince Charming.

She wondered if he had told his friends about her closing a shift with him, laughing at how she was dumb enough to totally miss that it was him. The thought stung with betrayal.

But maybe if she was self-involved enough to not even realize it was him, she deserved to be mocked. Maybe that was the very reason JJ had no interest in talking to her once he realized who she was.

A tiny but growing part of her regretted how rash she’d acted as the weekend inched by and the next week at school began. She didn’t regret snapping at him, but maybe she could’ve at least stuck around to hear what he had to say afterwards.

Sarah hadn’t known what to say. Kiara suspected she didn’t really approve based on her remarks about her dad hiring JJ from the other week, but Sarah was an expert in bad boy decisions. She had no room to judge, so once she’d recovered from her shock, she’d simply wrapped an arm around Kiara’s neck and asked if there was anything she could do.

There wasn’t, but based on the curious stares from the rest of the cheer squad, Kiara suspected Sarah was keeping their questions at bay. No doubt Rafe had fed the gossip mill about Kiara’s tryst with JJ Maybank.

She wasn’t sure what pissed her off more: his ghosting of her, or the fact that the school was trying to make a scandal of the situation.

Kiara had been lucky enough Friday and then with the guise of the weekend to have not seen JJ since she’d confronted him at the Wreck, but like any luck, her time had ran out. She zeroed in on him almost immediately at lunch on Monday.

One of her first thoughts was that seeing him in regular clothes was surreal. Even from across the lunchroom, she could see that he was in a stained t-shirt and cargo shorts, a far cry from his apron at the Wreck and even farther from his Prince Charming costume.

He was at a table with two other guys, and he had his head flat on the table, making dramatic gestures with his hands. His friends were exchanging concerned glances, and she had a sick suspicion that he must be hung over.

When they’d been texting, he’d made various jokes about how he’d like to be drunk for this class or that class, but she never actually got the sense that he did it. There was a pang of guilt in her chest; she hoped he wasn’t having such a hard time because of her.

Getting a glimpse of him was… hard.

Kiara had never gone through a real breakup, had never known true heartbreak. But now, with the crumbing hole in her chest, she thought maybe she understood the times she’d had to comfort Sarah crying in the bathroom, or when Scarlet had refused to get up and do the dances for cheerleading.

Heartbreak sucked ass.

She didn’t realize she’d paused in the middle of the cafeteria until Rafe Cameron was standing right in front of her. He was looking smarmy as always. Perhaps even more than usual, and Kiara’s lip curled almost at the sight of him. Her patience with his presence was seriously thinning. 

“He’s a piece of shit, Kiara,” Rafe soothed, and she knew without asking that he’d seen who she was looking at. “Just look at him. He’s gonna end up in a jail cell next to his old man.”

A brief, satisfactory vision flashed through Kiara’s mind of her salad and milk sopping right through Rafe’s over gelled hair. Her fingers twitched in temptation. _Violence is never the answer,_ she repeated to herself, over and over.

She settled for glaring at him. “Not everyone is as privileged as you, Rafe.”

As she shoved her way around him, swerving for a deserted hallway at the last minute instead of their usual lunch table, Kiara’s thoughts drifted back to JJ.

Maybe she should talk to him. Give him another chance. Despite how pissed off Rafe’s comment had made her, she did know that JJ didn’t seem to have the easiest time of things. Maybe there was something else going on, and he hadn’t wanted to bring her right into the mix. Even though the days that passed after the Halloween dance had seemed like a year, it really hadn’t even been a full week that he’d left her hanging.

She didn’t think she could put herself out there again, especially not so soon, but… If he made an attempt to make up with her, she’d hear him out. It was decided.

She bit her lip and slid down the cinderblock wall, alone with her thoughts.

* * *

JJ’s life had always been a mess. One enormous red flag after another, but somehow this felt like a low even he hadn’t reached before.

His ribs ached and his head was pounding and he didn’t know how much more of his dad he could take. He was only sixteen. He’d nearly drunk himself into a stupor the night before, just because he might as well add another check in the column for his long, long list of screw-ups.

The fact that the girl he was really into hated his guts was really just one last big fuck you from the universe.

Even now, after he’d ditched his afternoon classes in favor of wallowing at the hellhole he called a house, the ceiling was still spinning if he moved too quickly. His one, single salvation was the fact that his dad was still long passed out in his bedroom.

His cellphone dinged, which he ignored, because the thing had brought him nothing but hell these past few weeks. He’d seen Kiara’s messages that had gone unread, had typed out a million different explanations before remembering that his fucking rib was probably fractured. After that, he’d deleted the app altogether.

It was time to close the page on that, for good.

The _tap tap tap_ that resounded from his window a few minutes later didn’t really surprise him. The sight of John B and Pope, eyes peaking over the ledge, surprised him even less. They were stubborn little bitches when they wanted to be.

He yanked the window open. “I can’t come out.”

John B ignored him, pushing his way inside. Pope stumbled his way in after him, much less gracefully, and JJ didn’t miss him taking in the destroyed state of JJ’s room. The punched in walls, the photograph that had been ripped apart and then taped back together. Normally, he tried to keep them away, so Pope had never really seen the inside of his room.

“Well, just make yourselves at home.”

John B crossed his arms. “This is an intervention.”

“Did Pope teach you that word on the way over?” JJ bit back, because he was angry and upset and _tired_ of everything. John B had gone so long without batting an eye, so he didn’t know why he’d decided to come out looking all concerned all of a sudden.

“Come on, man.” Pope’s voice was as soothing as it could be, considering the circumstances. “Look at your life.”

“I know it’s a shit show, thanks.”

“It doesn’t have to be this, JJ,” John B said. JJ wondered when he had finally realized what _this_ was. Perhaps when he’d found him Saturday night, black and blue and so drunk he could hardly slur two words together. “Come on. Enough is enough.”

John B started rifling through his closet while he talked, and JJ scowled in disbelief. He didn’t bother to play dumb, though. “He’s my dad. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

John B emerged from his closet, mangy duffle bag in hand. He started shoving t-shirts in, some of which JJ had stolen fair and square straight from the Routledge household, and JJ shot to his feet. He tried not to let his wince of pain be visible, ignored Pope reaching out in concern.

John B wasn’t swayed. “Move in with me.”

JJ tried to hide how he faltered. His eyes latched onto the bag, burning. “Your dad doesn’t need another piece of shit hanging around.”

“You’re already there half the time anyway,” John B argued. “And he’s never home. He doesn’t care.”

“And if you don’t want to stay with John B, you can stay with me, man.”

“You’re not staying here,” John B said, like the matter was settled.

JJ looked between his two friends, both now with bits of his clothes hanging out of their hands. They were earnest, their expressions oozing concern. He wiped at his nose.

“Whatever. Fine. Maybe for a while. But let’s go before my dad wakes up.”

Big John didn’t let out so much as a grunt when the three of them carried JJ’s bag in to John B’s room, all of the possessions he gave a fuck about tossed in there. It was a pathetic few, but it felt like a million bucks with the weight slowly lifting off JJ’s shoulders.

John B tossed a ragged old sleeping bag at him after Pope had gone home. It smelled like mothballs. “Put this on the pullout. Your ass isn’t getting my bed.”

And JJ pretended it wasn’t a tear of relief that leaked out, even once he was settled in the blessed silence of the Routledge living room. He was alone and in the dark, but for the first time in a long time, things were looking up.

Piece by piece, maybe he could pull some semblance of a life together.

* * *

There had been a pep rally during sixth period for the last football game of the year, but as far as cheerleaders went, Kiara didn’t consider herself to be feeling very peppy.

She’d filled out an early application last night, at her mother’s prodding, to a local college with a renowned business program. She still hadn’t figured out a way to break the _no fucking way_ news to her, and on top of that, Royce Greensburg, an attractive, nice guy from the golf team had asked her to go to a party after the game with him. She’d said no without even thinking twice.

Sarah had been distraught at the news, but this thing with JJ really had her heart going in a million different directions. It was going to take more than a few days to sort it out.

“We’re still going to that party,” Sarah said, head half in the backseat of her car. They were digging out their makeup bags so they could go touch up in the locker room before the game with the rest of the squad. “I’m serious. We’ve sat around enough this week.”

“Sounds good,” Kiara said, even though it wasn’t the greatest proposal she’d ever heard. She enjoyed partying, when the mood was right, but house parties could get really stuffy and cliquey ridiculously fast. Maybe the alcohol, at least, would do her some good. “Time to get over… it.”

It being JJ.

Sarah had progressed to stage three of her own breakup mentality: her second round of anger. Kiara, however, was still floating relentlessly in limbo, wondering what ifs and whys.

It was only Friday, had only been a little over a week since she’d confronted him. Like any addict, she figured she deserved a little time for the cold turkey aspect to settle in. Before the Halloween dance fiasco, she’d talked to him nearly all day, everyday, about things she’d never talked about with anyone. She deserved some time, damn it. 

And she must have been hallucinating, because there JJ was, striding towards her across the parking lot. His hands were folded into the pockets of his shorts and there was a determined grit to his jaw.

“Kiara,” he said, and Sarah’s jaw practically hit the floor. She’d gone still where she was leaned over inside the car.

Kiara’s mouth went dry. “JJ—“

“Look, I’m sorry I acted like a jackass, but I was dealing with some shit. I shouldn’t have left you hanging,” JJ cut her off, and his voice was stiff. She could tell he had prepared this speech. Her own voice was nowhere to be found, lost in the fact that he was here in front of her.

JJ’s eyes fluttered where they looked into hers, like he was struggling to maintain eye contact, but he didn’t look away. “But I still think you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met, and you’re like, ridiculously fucking talented. So I hope you don’t think you did anything wrong or whatever.”

Kiara’s heart was screaming in her chest. She couldn’t move, and the longer the silence stretched on, the more the determination fell off JJ’s face.

He swallowed, finally looking away. “So, yeah. Just wanted to tell you that. I won’t bother you again.”

His eyes lingered on her warm up, like he was imagining her at the game later that night. A totally different universe than wherever he’d end up.

She needed to say something. Wanted to say _, no, you fucking idiot, the point is I want you to never leave me alone_ , but her body seemed to have stopped functioning.

He turned to go like he was running from hellfire, and as cliché as it was, Kiara felt like a very important part of her floated away after him.

“What the hell was that?” Sarah screeched, as soon as he was out of earshot. She reemerged from the car, and her hand grasped Kiara’s arm. “Did that just happen?”

“Shit,” Kiara muttered, faintly.

Sarah searched her face. “I think you should go after him.”

Kiara felt like crying. “I- I can’t.”

It was… it was horrible timing. They had to be down on the field shortly, and she hadn’t even started getting ready. And she knew, in the back of her mind, if she followed him… there was no going back.

“Kiara…”

She released a steadying breath. She nodded, mostly to herself. “I’m going to take care of this after the game, though.”

If he’d still hear her out, that was. There was too much shit up in the air between them, and now that she’d seen the raw emotion on his face, she knew without a doubt that idea that he didn’t care about her at all was very much false.

* * *

JJ quit his second job at the mechanic. He had wanted to drop the Wreck, not only because he liked the work less, but also because he really didn’t want to deal with the implications that would come with having to work alongside Kiara shortly. But unfortunately, the hours there were more consistent, and Mike was more willing to work around his school schedule. Assuming Kiara didn’t force her dad to fire him, that was.

He hadn’t heard a peep from _his_ father. He was sure to be happy to have JJ out of the house, at least until he realized there was a significant lack of cash flowing into his hands.

Pope had convinced him Luke wasn’t worth confronting, wasn’t worth wasting his breath on. JJ knew he was right, logically, but well… He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

He had confronted Kiara though. Had gotten the things weighing on his chest about her out, so he could continue trying this new leaf concept. He felt both lighter and incredibly nauseous at the thought, though.

Her expression had been impossible to make out. He’d rendered her completely silent. Probably, she didn’t give a fuck about him anymore, but he very much gave a fuck about her, so it was necessary.

JJ realized he didn’t want to become Luke Maybank. Bottling his emotions, keeping that anger and hurt in and letting it eat away at his insides like he had been doing wasn’t the way to achieve that. Kicking the habit wasn’t going to happen overnight, but baby steps.

“I say we go to the game, then hit up Owens’s party afterwards,” John B suggested, while they were crashing outside his house Friday afternoon.

“Uh, since when do we go to football games?” Pope inquired.

JJ took a drag from his juul, then slowly released. He’d commandeered the entire hammock to himself, and John B had let it go without argument for once. He’d seen JJ’s face after his confrontation with Kiara and had been cutting him slack. Either that, or he just didn’t want to push his luck.

“A party with all the people we hate? No thanks,” JJ muttered. Not to mention Kiara would no doubt be there.

John B kept shooting JJ furtive looks. Normally, it would be more along JJ’s role to suggest such boneheaded ideas. There would be free booze at the party, for one, but the people? He was less equipped to deal with them than usual.

Running into Rafe Cameron would be even worse than running into Kiara. He was always bursting with a snide comment, and now that JJ suspected he was the one who told Kiara who he was and made everything go to hell, well… it wouldn’t take much for him to snap.

“The game and then we get wasted alone after?” John B amended.

“Still trying to figure out why we want to go to a football game.” Pope had started half drowning them out in favor of playing some trendy new game on his phone. He grumbled under his breath when his character got skewered.

JJ leaned his head back, slinging an arm over his eyes. He remembered Kiara matter-of-factly informing him how the football team sucked ass. “Only upside is seeing Topper get creamed.”

Rafe had technically on the team too at one point, but had long since quit. He’d declared it was because the team lost every game, but JJ had little doubt he’d spent most games warming the bench anyway. The idea of Rafe working hard, getting sweaty and contributing to winning a game was fucking ridiculous.

“Come on, JJ. You finally have a Friday night off, and normal teenagers go to football games.”

Pope looked up at that. “Are you classifying yourself as normal?”

John B probably wouldn’t even watch the game. Not with Sarah on the field. That meant Kiara would be there too, and JJ really didn’t want to see her again. But he also wanted to prove he didn’t give a fuck that the school was whispering behind his back even more than usual, probably having come up with at least thirty-two different scenarios in which Kiara had brutally dumped him as soon as she realized he’d been deceived.

And fuck. If he was going to have to start sharing shifts with her, he might as well keep ripping the band aide off. There were no breaks in his future, so why not start now?

“Fine. But we’re cutting out early,” he said, and Pope groaned.

The game, being the last one of the season, was packed despite the team’s piss poor record and the mass of clouds twisting in the sky, promising rain if they were lucky and a storm if they weren’t.

A lot of kids came to socialize, JJ guessed, but he couldn’t imagine why they’d make a habit of gathering here to do it. He didn’t prefer to extend the hours he spent with most of the people at school.

And most of the guys on the team probably had families that actually gave a fuck about them, meaning they’d come to the game. He had no doubt the Carreras were there somewhere, probably sitting with the other wealthy families in the school district and subtly exchanging _no, actually, my kid is better than yours_ remarks. At least, Anna was sure to be participating in that kind of talk. Mike seemed comparatively unimpressed by how rich this family or that family was. He wore a scowl whenever Rafe Cameron walked into the Wreck, and that was enough to earn a smidge of JJ’s respect.

“Look at us, getting the high school experience,” John B said, and he had to raise his voice to a near yell. The rumble of the crowd was constant; they were reacting to the game, to each other, to anything and everything.

“Thanks. I hate it,” Pope announced. His arms were crossed, and he was eyeing the pep club, gathered a few rows below, to make sure they didn’t pounce.

Like some sick, twisted form of magnetism, JJ’s eyes sought out Kiara almost. She was lined up with the other cheerleaders on the turf, shaking her pompoms and looking absolutely nothing like the girl he’d come to know. Her face was a mask, totally zoned out and oblivious to his presence. In her defense, there were hundreds of people present, and he wasn’t exactly a frequent feature in the crowd.

He was doing a great fucking job of getting over it already.

JJ was pretending Kiara was behind a little glass, apart of some other universe and thus completely intangible until she suddenly froze. She faltered in revving up the crowd, her arms falling to her sides and her pompoms forgotten.

He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. She had seen him.

JJ tapped his fingers on his knee, counting out the rhythm in his head. He shuffled to the right, then back to his initial spot. He cleared his throat. The scoreboard indicated that there was only a couple minutes left in the game, and for once, their team wasn’t getting pummeled. No one else in the audience was leaving.

“Hey man,” he said into John B’s ear. John B grunted in response. “Ready to run?”

“The score’s tied,” John B said. He was frowning, and JJ wasn’t sure if he was hoping their team would win or if they (And by extension, Topper) would lose.

As if on cue, a burst of moisture exploded on JJ’s cheek, and a quick glance at the sky revealed the bottom had finally fallen out. Cascades of little droplets fell down, dampening his shoulders and hair. The cheerleaders shrieked, but he could still swear Kiara was staring right fucking at him.

Umbrellas popped open around them, and Pope yanked the hood of his raincoat up, muttering to himself. JJ shot to his feet, tussling his hair with one hand and fiddling with the juul in his pocket with another. “I need to smoke.”

John B eyed him skeptically, but Pope said, “Sure, man. But please don’t get us kicked out.” JJ had no doubt Pope would’ve clamored after him if every cell in his body wasn’t broadcasting, _I need to be alone right now_.

He took the stairs two at a time, and he was at the top of the stadium in no time. He was far from secluded, but at least he didn’t feel Kiara’s eyes boring holes into him anymore. Maybe the rain could wash away the last two weeks; fuck, his entire _life_.

He’d hardly had time to slump against the brick wall before a voice called after him, breathless. “JJ! JJ!”

And Kiara was suddenly right there, in her cute perky ponytail and short cheerleader skirt. She was panting from where she had clearly just run up the stairs, but her dark eyes were desperate. A few bystanders in line at the concession stand shot them looks.

JJ’s heart hammered, in his throat. She watched him like she was approaching a stray.

“Kie?” he muttered, and her face broke into a hopeful smile. He could still make out her nerves in the way she twisted her mouth, in the way she rang her hands.

“Hey,” she breathed.

She was here. She was _here_.

“Hey.” His stomach clenched. He hardly noticed the rain picking up, or the screams of people back in the audience.

Kiara squared her shoulders. A crucial second passed, the kind that a person’s entire life hung in the balance of, and she took another step forward. Her hand crept into his, warm and welcoming, and he felt his fingers first freeze, then relax instinctually.

“I just wanted to tell you… Please don’t stop bothering me.” Her voice trembled over a couple words, but she didn’t waiver.

JJ held his breath. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then his hand clenched hers back, and his mouth twitched. Kiara leaned forward, and even with her silhouette blurred by the rain he could see that she was beaming. He wanted to make some comment about how her flirting skills needed some serious work, but the words got caught in his throat.

Her free hand drifted to his shoulder, like when they’d danced alone in the music room. Only this time, her lips landed on his, warm and _alive_ in perfect contrast to the chill of the rain.

JJ had never understood that ridiculous moment in movies where kissing someone was magic, the end all that solved people’s problems. As far as he was concerned, it had always been a stepping-stone to copping a better feel or to sex.

But when he inched forwards, molding his mouth more firmly against Kiara’s in a way that caused her to let out a cute little ghost of air against his lips, something finally clicked.

Her arms wove around his shoulders, fingers creeping into the shaggy hair at the nape of his neck, and he pulled her closer in response. Both of their clothes were soaked through, but JJ had never cared less about such an inconvenience in his life. He would kiss her all day in the rain. In the snow, in a storm. Wherever she wanted to.

He would never get tired of kissing Kiara Carrera.

Something blasted over the intercom that JJ didn’t make out, but suddenly Kiara was pulling back. Her eyes implored his, but she didn’t abandon her grip on him. JJ raised a trembling thumb to swipe a sodden curl off her forehead.

“You really waited to kiss me in the rain.” He tried to sound sarcastic, but big ass grin overtaking his lips ruined the effect. “I didn’t nail you as a hopeless romantic, Carrera.”

Kiara rolled her eyes, then smacked playfully on his shoulder. Her ponytail, formerly full and bouncy, had grown limp and soppy from the rain, but she’d never looked more beautiful.

“Only because you wouldn’t kiss me at the dance,” she accused, but there was no heat behind it.

“Please don’t stop bothering me,” he repeated, pretending to think on it. “Nah, maybe you’re not that romantic.”

“Oh, shut up.”

And she yanked him back in for another searing kiss.

* * *

**JJ [7:21 am]:** _My girlfriend looks smokin today_

**JJ [7:23 am]:** _Might have to reconsider that janitor’s closet_

**Kie [7:28 am]:** _Keep talking like that and you might not have a girlfriend_

**JJ [7:32 am]:** _you’d miss me too much_

**Kie [7:34 am]:** _also stop texting me at work. My dad’s in the kitchen. It’s creepy_

**JJ [7:38 am]:** _u love it_

**Kie [7:39 am]:** _< 3_

**Kie [7:41 am]:** _in the dish room if you want to show me instead_

* * *

Kiara never thought she would be a touchy, PDA kind of girlfriend, but that was before JJ. He was all hands and heart and intensity and he always seemed to want to touch her. A hand on her knee, his lips on the shell of her ear, a tug on her curl.

She couldn’t get enough.

They were behind the counter at the Wreck, working the breakfast rush before school. Kiara was shoving biscuits for their friends into a baggie, and JJ had a casual hand massaging her shoulder, a touch she practically melted into. Mike had temporarily abandoned glowering at JJ with a knife in hand in favor of cooking, so she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

John B and Pope, however, still couldn’t seem to stop staring. Pope in particular had taken to watching them like they were two insects under a microscope from his seat on the opposite side of the counter, and silence almost always washed over him in Kiara’s presence.

“So, I told my mom last night,” Kiara said, in the midst of wrapping a bacon biscuit for Sarah.

JJ’s hand on her stilled. “How’d it go?”

“Awful,” she admitted. Her hip bumped his, and she offered him a small smile. “But it went.

If it hadn’t have been for JJ, she might have ended up bullied into business school. Instead, when Anna had handed her yet another application late last night, Kiara had taken a deep breath and explained to her that she would be taking a gap year. That she might not even go to college at all.

Her mom still wasn’t speaking to her much, but she would get over it. Kiara was sure of it.

She looked at JJ, and she was grateful for that certainty with her mom. He still hadn’t opened up with exact details of how his home life had been before he moved in with John B, but she knew enough for her heart to swell with relief that he was out of there.

JJ planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “She wants my head on a spike, doesn’t she?” Somehow, he managed to sound both amused and self-deprecating at the same time.

“Nah.”

Her parents’ opinion of JJ was… a work in progress.

There was one person besides her, however, who loved the new addition of him into her life. “Morning, lovebirds,” Sarah’s voice interrupted, from the entryway. She strutted in, bag slung over her shoulder and hair blown out to perfection. She flashed a smile at John B, and Kiara was fairly sure his soul left his body. Pope looked back and forth between the two of them with dread.

“Yeah, never call us that again,” Kiara said, as JJ mimed gagging. The grin on his face ruined the effect.

Things weren’t an automatic happily ever after. But Kiara? Kiara was happy.

And taking in the soft smile on JJ’s face, the face she was still learning and growing to love, she thought he was, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this! I had a lovely time writing it, and I thought we as a fandom could use a nice fluffy (kind of lol) story alongside all the angst. 
> 
> Please come visit me on my tumblr "alphinias"! I love to talk about Jiara.

**Author's Note:**

> Part two coming soon. I decided to split it because it got ENTIRELY too long. 
> 
> Feel free to come goof with me on my tumblr "alphinias"


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